Certain Methods
by brokenroots
Summary: Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.
1. In the Mail

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,614  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: So, despite the other fics I've posted and completed, this concept I technically developed before a lot of them, shortly after Nico's episode two revelation that he was a SEAL. Being a long time fan of JAG, my mind went to the admiral, and how cool would it be for Nico and the admiral to team up? And thus, this story started. Where it ends... anyone's guess. :P

* * *

><p><strong>In the Mail<strong>

"You get mail?"

Dani winced inwardly. She hadn't meant to say that. It sounded moronic, coming out like that. No, it was stupid no matter how she said it. She didn't sound like an educated woman, a licensed therapist. She sounded like a child. She shouldn't have been surprised, not for a second. Everyone got mail. Even if they used false names or addresses, they still got junk mail. Nico was no exception to that rule. Of course he had mail. He had to have all of the in-house Hawks and Pittman group mail, at the very least.

"I do," he agreed, looking up from the stack that he held in his hand. Some of the pieces went straight into the trash, but two envelopes stayed in his hand. "If you want to send me some, feel free to send it to the office here."

She caught herself having a fleeting image of filling out a party invitation for him and shook her head. That would never happen. She didn't do parties, and he wouldn't come. "You _do _have a home address, don't you?"

"That information is classified," he told her, and she looked at him. Classified? Really? He smiled, reaching for an old-fashioned and rather scary looking letter opener. He opened the two envelopes and set it back down. She studied it on the desk. The handle's metalwork was ornate, and the blade looked almost dangerously sharp. Was that a real dagger?

She cleared her throat, forcing her eyes away from the knife or dagger or whatever it was. "Will I ever have that kind of clearance?"

"How long do you believe that you will be a part of this organization, Dr. Santino?" he countered, taking the letters out of the envelopes. One went straight into the trash with the envelope. She frowned, wondering if he was trying to tell her something with that or if he was just throwing away junk mail and she was reading too much into things. She had a habit of analyzing everything psychologically, and it could be more straightforward than she tended to think.

"I have no idea," she admitted. "As long as I can help someone, I guess. I made TK a promise, and I will keep it even _if _I get fired."

Nico studied her for a moment. If this was about her attempt to enforce boundaries that had sent TK straight to the yes man Laz, that was different. She still intended to keep her promise to TK, but she needed to have boundaries to be able _to _help him.

"Then perhaps that clearance might be earned."

"Really?" she asked, torn between being offended at the patronizing idea of earning it and a bit pleased that Nico would actually share that with her. She seemed to be one of few people that he gave even the smallest of tidbits to, and she liked being in that number. She would, of course, prefer more information, since his mysterious ways were only amusing for so long before they became extremely frustrating, and she was really sick of him sneaking up on her.

"It may become necessary for you to have that information in your continued employment," he agreed. She gave him a look, not liking the stiff formality of the words. "Right now, it does not."

"So, I get it if work requires that I need it? When would work require that I need it?"

"Hopefully never," he told her. She made a face. He turned back to the second letter, brow creasing. She watched him, concerned by the dark look on his face. He was truly bothered by what he'd read. She wondered what was disturbing him so badly that he gave that much away. He did not normally show so much, especially not to her, not with her tendency to read more into things.

"Nico?"

"I have something to take care of," he said, getting to his feet. She frowned further. This was different. Oh, sure, he was the team's "fixer," and he went places and did things that no one knew about, but something he had to handle in a letter addressed personally to him? That seemed a little off from the usual. Normally it was a call from a player or something. Though... that didn't explain why he had a habit of showing up at her front door late at night.

"Something wrong?"

"Something that must be handled," he answered, not looking at her. She followed after him, unable to ignore the signs. She had seen him like this before—this, for Nico, was upset—and she was not about to let it go.

"What needs to be handled?"

"You claim that I fail to respect boundaries—"

"Claim, nothing. You _do. _You have no sense of boundaries," she said, thinking of all his late night visits to her house and how he'd threatened to make people disappear. "As long as you get what you need to do done, you don't care about anything else. You are out of control."

He glanced at her, and she regretted the harsh condemnation. It wasn't always like that. Their methods clashed on more than one occasion, but she knew he wasn't completely heartless. "And if someone was interested in the particular type of skills I use?"

"I would have my doubts that what they wanted was anything legal and that it was definitely _not _good," she muttered, and he nodded. Her eyes got wide. "Wait, who wants you for this?"

"The US government."

"What?"

* * *

><p>"Can I help you?"<p>

Nico studied the bars on the man's uniform, and then his face. A commander, former fighter pilot. In amongst the ribbons were some interesting commendations for a JAG lawyer. There was more to this man than met the eye. A good thing, since the initial impression Nico had gotten was not a positive one. The man was a perfect example of a naval officer, so clean cut and crisp and full of enthusiasm for the job he held. Nico's service had been less... gratifying, and his hands were definitely not clean.

"I'll be damned," a loud voice boomed across the room. Nico's lips curved into a slight smile. "The hell are you doing here, Nico?"

"Sir?" the commander asked, looking over at his commanding officer with the obligatory question. Nico had not missed that. He had become accustomed to moving at his own pace, reporting basically to no one. Pittman gave him autonomy. He didn't care how things were done, just that they were. Everyone else felt the same. They did not really care _what _he did as long as he got whatever they wanted or needed done. No one had challenged his methods until Dani Santino came along.

"I served with this man years ago. SEAL," Chegwidden explained. "Commander Rabb, this is Nico Careles."

"Never figured you for a lawyer, AJ," Nico observed, as he had done in the past, when he first heard of Chegwidden's decision to change designations.

Chegwidden gave Nico a look. He probably suspected the truth under the old joke, knew that Nico had already known that he was a JAG lawyer, that he had come here specifically to speak to a man he had once served with, a man he felt he could trust. He could have found another JAG lawyer to work with, one closer to him, but he doubted that many would understand the situation Nico found himself in. "Not sure what you do, but I have to wonder if it's remotely legal."

Nico shrugged in turn. Chegwidden had gone with the joke as well. Nico knew full well that the admiral didn't think much of what he did. "Legal is a matter of definition."

"Not here," the commander said immediately.

Nico looked over at Rabb with amusement. This one still harbored delusions most people had let go of years ago. He clung to the ideals and image that held the US in a better light than was realistic most of the time. Idealism and Nico had parted ways a long time ago, if they had ever been companions in the first place. "Defining the law—at least the military code—is what you do everyday."

Chegwidden laughed. "And you're surprised that _I'm _a lawyer?"

Nico smiled. He had learned his fair share of legal maneuvers and was fully capable of manipulating any of the players' contracts if he needed to, even going so far as to advise the team's lawyers on occasion. "Perhaps not. Perhaps that means you will be able to assist me."

"With what, exactly?" Rabb asked, suspicious. Nico figured that his request would not go over very well with that one. He would not understand. That one was the type that would go to the grave in the uniform, carrying his traditions and honor with him. He would not think much of someone who did not want to serve, whatever their reasons.

"This." Nico passed over the letter he'd received in the mail. He had considered ignoring it, had almost taken it to the team's legal advisers, but they were not experts in naval law. Those experts were here, in this room.

"Recall to active duty?" Rabb read aloud. He looked up at Nico like Nico must be an idiot. "This is fairly self-explanatory."

"I do not require an explanation," Nico said. He looked over at Chegwidden, bypassing the commander pointedly. "I would like to challenge it."

Rabb frowned. He looked over at his commanding officer, trying to get a feel for Chegwidden's opinion of the situation. AJ's face was impassive, giving away nothing. Rabb fingered the paper again. "Challenge it?"

Nico nodded. "I would hardly say that I served my country with distinction in the past, as your CO is well aware. The war is nearly over. The president is preparing to reduce troops overseas. Add in my nearly dishonorable discharge, and the work I used to do—most of which is classified far above your level—this leads me to be concerned about this recall. More specifically, what I would be doing were I actually recalled to active duty."

"So, your position isn't that you're unwilling to serve," Rabb clarified. "It's a matter of how you believe you would be serving?"

"I have a certain set of skills, Commander. In the past few years, it has been enough to use the implication of those skills to accomplish my work," Nico began, looking toward Chegwidden. "I had believed the more physical application of those skills was over and done with."

Rabb was still having trouble wrapping his head around this one. "We're all trained to—"

"To disable. To hurt. To kill," Nico interrupted, not disagreeing with that. "Rabb, you have defended a man accused of war crimes before, haven't you?"

"Are you saying you're guilty of war crimes?"

"Define war crimes."

"Are you always like this?"

"Some say it is a part of my charm."

* * *

><p>"What is your current position?" Harm asked, going through the obvious, easy and usual means of countering a recall to duty. Few people he knew actually did this, and he wouldn't have thought that one of the admiral's friends would want to, but there were clearly first times for everything, weren't there?<p>

"Arguing that my vocation fulfills a necessary role here at home will not work. You will need another tactic. As I have said, I am not concerned with returning to active duty, in as much as I do not object to serving. I question what I will be doing in that service."

"Exactly why is this an issue?"

"Because it is."

Harm sighed. He wondered why the admiral hadn't taken on his friend's case himself. Careles was proving to be one of the most difficult people he'd ever represented, and he'd had several bad cases in his past, ones that should make this one seem... tame.

"Have you ever done 'wet work,' Commander?" Careles countered, leaning back in his chair. He folded his hands in his lap. "I specialized in making things—people or problems—disappear. Nowadays I do not have to kill, but it is something I have done in the past. There is enough blood on my hands, enough questionable actions. I may not work in the most reputable of fields, but I have no desire to kill. Not again."

"I understand that."

"Do you?" Careles asked, disbelief in his voice. Harm looked at the other man. As much as the former SEAL pushed his buttons, Careles had formed an equally low opinion of him. Harm saw the other man take out his phone and shake his head. "Excuse me for a second."

Harm waved him away with his hand. He needed a moment to think, and it would be nice if Bud would get back with Careles' service record already. It would give Harm a better sense of the man that he was dealing with and allow him to get back on an equal footing again. He'd had to watch himself since this was the admiral's friend, and he had to believe the bond had been forged in combat because he didn't know any other way anyone could tolerate Careles, but that was Harm's own bias talking.

"Terrence, did you put a cellphone through his head?" Careles demanded. He had a bit of a tone to his voice, like he was used to being frustrated by the person on the other end of the line. "Then what is the emergency? Did you call Dr. Santino? No, I suggest that you call her. Because I am not in the state and this is the type of situation that she should handle in the first place. Cute, but I am not actually capable of being in more than one place at the same time. Call Santino."

Careles hung up and Harm was about to ask him a question when he made another call. "Dr. Santino. TK is on his way to you. If he does not contact you, I suggest you call him. He is worked up over something, but all I got was that someone said something in a bar. It was not a case of cellphone violence this time, but we all know TK."

Harm was starting to get curious—more curious than he should be or even _wanted _to be—and he knew he shouldn't be listening. Careles forced a tight smile despite the fact that whoever was on the other end couldn't see it. "Yes, I am handling that, Doctor. I expect it resolved shortly."

He hung up again and turned back to Harm. Harm looked down at his desk and back at Careles with a sigh. "I don't suppose there's any reason you'd fail to pass the physical, is there?"

Careles seemed amused by Harm's near desperation. "No. Though if necessary, I suppose I could find a doctor who was willing to say so."

"You'd do that?"

Careles shook his head. "I don't lie. I also don't want to kill. There should be some way of challenging this that does not involve lying and allows me to avoid killing."

"Well, there goes having you commit some minor crime to prevent your military service," Harm joked, and Careles actually smiled back at him.

"Commander?" Bud asked, poking his head into the office. "Can I have a moment?"

Harm nodded. This should be about the records, and it was past time he got them."Of course, Bud, come on in."

"Sorry, sir," Bud began, looking very upset. Harm frowned at him. "It's just... I'm having a hard time getting the records you asked me for. The... Careles ones? They're... not there."

Harm turned to ask the other man about that, but he was gone.


	2. All Part of the Act

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,558  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Of course, there had to be a further connection, right?

* * *

><p><strong>All Part of the Act<strong>

"And the Thomas deposition is just about finished," Mac reported, trying not to look over at Harm and Bud as she did. They'd all been called in for their usual report, but at the same time, the admiral seemed to be making them squirm, forcing them to wait as she went on about things that had nothing to do with them, things that really didn't seem to matter right now. She'd spent nine minutes and fourteen seconds on them so far, and every time she thought she was finished, the admiral asked her about some small, meaningless detail. She would have thought it was a test for her, but the others were more uncomfortable than she was.

"Thank you, Major," the admiral said. He made a point of stopping to make notes, and she swore that Harm was fidgeting over there. "Commander Rabb, tell me about the Marks case."

"Marks, sir?" Harm asked, disbelief all over his face. "Don't you want to know about—"

"I said Marks. I meant Marks."

"Yes, sir," Harm agreed, exchanging a short look with Bud as he launched into an explanation of the Marks case. Mac didn't catch much of it. Her mind was on what the admiral was doing. She'd heard that one of his friends had come by the office yesterday, but she'd been in court most of the day, so she hadn't been able to ask anyone about the visitor. Harm must have that case. This should be interesting.

"And the Donaldson article thirty-two hearing?"

"I expect them to drop the charges any minute now, Admiral. They've got no case."

"Good," the admiral began. He looked through his papers again, and Bud opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, they heard Tyner yelling outside the door.

"Yes, he's in there, but you can't go in. Sir, you can't go in!"

Mac turned as a man in a long dark coat pushed the door open, walking right past the three officers and up to the desk. He either didn't notice or care that he was interrupting or that Tyner was trailing after him, still trying to stop him. He was intent on one man and one alone. "You lied to me."

The admiral frowned. That was a dangerous accusation to make, and everyone else in the room knew it. "Excuse me?"

The man in the coat shook his head, clearly agitated. His hair had probably been styled back earlier, but it was coming loose as he moved. "I should have known. First this recall to active duty, and now... I had a visitor last night. A man you _assured _me was dead. You, of all people, Chegwidden. I came to you for help."

The admiral shook his head. "I swear to God, Nico, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You haven't forgotten him. Don't even try and play that card with me. That bastard is supposed to be dead, but instead I walked right into his trap because I thought I could trust you. Clearly that was a mistake," Nico snapped, walking out the same way he'd come in. Tyner rushed out after him, closing the door behind him.

Mac looked over at Harm and Bud. So... that was the admiral's friend and the case they were clearly worried about. What was going on here? The admiral looked over at the two of them. "Well, now, I hope you have an explanation for me."

"Sir, I have no idea what he's talking about," Harm began. He shook his head and looked back at the door. "Are you sure that... you don't?"

"Exactly what are you asking me, Commander?"

"I don't know, sir, but he seemed to think you did."

"Coming after the thing with his records, it's more than a little weird," Bud added. The admiral looked at him, and he gulped. "Well, sir, that is... We didn't find any records for a SEAL named Nico Careles. It wasn't just that they were classified as we were led to expect. They're just... not there. Period. The Navy has no record of him ever serving, as a SEAL or otherwise."

"That man is a SEAL, make no mistake of that."

"He certainly can disappear like one," Harm agreed. "He went right out of my office yesterday when Bud and I were talking and neither of us saw or heard a thing. No sign of him in the the rest of the building. Not an easy feat when we're talking about a civilian in JAG headquarters, even if he was dressed in black. He would have stood out, but no one saw him go."

"That's the thing about Nico," the admiral agreed with some pride in his voice. Mac wondered if he had trained the other man. "He could always come and go as he pleased. Made him a good SEAL."

"And a better assassin, sir?" Mac asked, interpreting the look on the admiral's face. He lifted his head, holding her gaze for a moment.

"Very perceptive, Major," he said, rising from his desk. "On the team, he was always the advance scout. He could clear the way and be halfway through a given compound without anyone even realizing he'd left our side. But his skills attracted another kind of notice, and he was pulled off the team for several 'independent' missions. After a series of disciplinary issues, he ended his service with the Navy and moved on to God knows what."

"You weren't in contact with him, sir?"

"No, Commander, I was not, by his request. He had severed his ties to the military and that included the men he'd served with," Chegwidden explained. "He mentioned being contacted by several mercenary firms—legal and otherwise—the last time we spoke, but other than that I have no idea what the man's been up to or why his files are gone. I suggest you contact Webb and get the hell out of my office."

"Aye, aye, sir," they answered, snapping a hasty salute before leaving the office. That had been more than a little abrupt at the end, and that was suspicious enough without the rest of it. It made the whole conversation questionable.

Mac waited until they'd gone a short distance away before she spoke. "That was interesting."

Harm met her look. He seemed to have picked up on the same things that she had. "The visit or the admiral?"

"I thought he was surprisingly forthcoming," Bud observed, and they looked at him. He shrugged. "Well, he told us a lot about Careles without making us have to do any investigation on our own, not like usual."

Harm almost laughed at that one. "I'm more interested in what he didn't say, Bud. He left out a lot more than he said. Something's up."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Find Webb. As ordered."

* * *

><p>Chegwiddin was standing over the grave when Nico approached him. The admiral's face was impassive, giving no sign of distress or that he had heard anything, at least to someone who hadn't served with with him. Nico knew better. He crossed the grass carefully, until he stood next to the other man.<p>

"Hell of a show you put on back there."

"I trust yours was equally impressive," Nico told him, putting his hands in his pockets. He already knew what was written on the the stone, but he read them over anyway. It gave names and dates, but did not speak of the woman's years on the bench or the type of judiciary she had been, did not say that she'd died as the result of a mad man or that her death still haunted the man who loved her. "Your office is already under surveillance."

Chegwidden almost smiled. "You always were paranoid."

"It's kept me alive so far," Nico agreed. He looked at the admiral. Chegwiddin had become the head of JAG, continued to advance his career, while Nico was still where he'd been the last time they'd met. Most of the time, he was happy with that. "I didn't understand how he could be alive after what he'd done to her. To you."

"I'm not a killer, Nico. A soldier, not a murderer."

"Placate yourself in semantics if you want, AJ. They were never any comfort to me," Nico said, shaking his head. The words had not saved him when he was serving, and they could not help him now. He could still feel that blood, still saw the faces of those he'd killed when he tried to sleep. He didn't sleep often.

"If Osborne is alive, I will hunt him down myself, and no amount of interference from my staff will keep me from killing the bastard this time."

"Osborne is alive," Nico assured him. "He shouldn't be, but I did not and could not forget that voice. Or that face."

_The door opened with considerable force and frustration. Once again, she was not pleased to see him. If he had a more predictable schedule, she'd be happier, but he did not work that way. "Nico, you do realize that it's late and normal people are asleep right now?"_

"_Your home was on my way, and I thought I should ask about the TK situation," he began. When she gave him a look, he shrugged slightly. He could try to justify his presence, but he'd already given her the truth. He'd remembered while he was driving, and he'd decided to stop. That was all. "TK apparently felt that I needed to know about it. Do I?"_

"_There are things called phones. I know you have one," she said, and he nodded. She shook her head and opened the door to let him in. He stepped inside, letting her close the door behind him. "TK was rattled by what the man said. It shook him quite a bit. He'll be able to play, don't worry, but it _did _make him think. Always a good thing with TK, right? Anyway, it's not something that required you to show up here. At my house. At night."_

"_Then why did you invite me inside?" Nico asked, curious. He was used to conducting their conversations on the porch. She had started toward the other room as she spoke—he wasn't sure she was even aware that she was moving—and he'd followed her part of the way, but he did not know why._

_She stopped, turning around. "Okay, you caught me. I was going to offer you something to drink and then ask you how the whole thing with the government wanting your skills was going."_

"_I have a team of highly capable lawyers handling it," Nico told her. He had looked into the history of one Harmon Rabb, Jr. and found enough there to convince him that—personal differences aside—Rabb was the right person for the job. Nico frowned. "Why does this concern you so much?"_

"_Because of the affect it has on you," she answered honestly. "You're not a man who shows much, but that letter really bothered you."_

"_It's being handled. I'll pass on the drink. See you tomorrow, Doctor."_

_He quickly returned to the front door, opened it, and walked outside. He didn't want to give her time to object or argue about this. It was private. It was being taken care of, and she did not need to know anything else._

_At first, he thought it was her questions that put him on edge, but the feeling intensified as he got closer to his car. He hadn't felt like this in a long time, and he shouldn't be feeling it now. He took out his keys and stopped. "What do you want?"_

"_I'll never understand how you do that," a voice began, and Nico stiffened. That voice belonged to a dead man. Chegwidden had given Nico the good news a while back, and Nico had even gone so far as to celebrate. He was only sorry that someone hadn't dealt with Osborne before the admiral was taken hostage—and before Osborne could murder the judge. "Training? See, close, but it really doesn't explain you, how you could vanish and reappear and how you always knew when someone was watching."_

_Nico turned around. Even in the half-light of the area, barely illuminated by the street lamp, that face was unmistakable. "The hell are you doing here?"_

"_Is that the way you greet your commanding officer?"_

"_I haven't been in the military in twenty years, and even when I was, you did nothing to deserve the respect I would have shown a commanding officer," Nico snapped. "I don't know why you're here, but I suggest you leave."_

"_You're wasting your skills working for Pittman, Nico."_

"_I use them as I see fit. If you don't leave, I'll see fit to use them against you," Nico warned darkly. He didn't care if the other man should have been a ghost. He looked real enough, and if he was real, then Nico could _make _him a ghost._

_Osborne looked back at the house. "She's a very lovely woman, isn't she? No wonder you visit her late at night."_

_Any attempt at clarifying the situation—Santino's involvement with someone else, her role as the team's therapist—would only be twisted by Osborne into something else that it wasn't. "She is a colleague, nothing more, but as all Hawks assets are under my protection, if you go near her, I will deal with you. Understood?"_

_Osborne smiled. "Oh, we're perfectly clear. I am looking forward to seeing you—and the good doctor—again."_

_Nico forced himself not to react as he watched the other man fade back into the shadows. When he heard the other car start, saw it move away, he took out his phone. He called in Xeno and the rest of his team. They were not to let Santino or her children out of their sight until Nico said otherwise. Until he figured out how to get at the ghost._

"You saw him," Chegwidden said, drawing Nico's attention back to the present. Nico looked over at the admiral, trying to gauge his reaction. "Spoke to him?"

"He threatened people under my protection. One woman in particular. This may be a repetition of what he did with the judge—"

"Osborne said that she was never supposed to be a part of it."

Nico didn't think the admiral was a fool, but if he'd believed anything Osborne said, then he must be. "Don't kid yourself. If he wanted you dead, he could have done it without the warnings and the games. He wanted you to suffer first, wanted you to suffer for a long time. Right now that bastard is fixated on Dr. Santino because I made the mistake of stopping by her home instead of calling her. I am not going to let anything happen to her or her family because of me."

"You have my full support and that of everyone under my command. I assure you, none of them want this bastard slipping past us twice."

"And you and I will have to fight over which one of us actually gets to kill him," Nico finished. He looked down at the grave again. "Honestly, though, I don't want much from you. AJ, your command is already compromised. What I want from you is simple. One answer. Why the hell isn't he dead?"


	3. Still No Answers

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,517  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: A bit of editing required for this part... bit better, hopefully...

* * *

><p><strong>Still No Answers<strong>

"Webb. Always a pleasure."

"Save it, Rabb. I don't appreciate being dragged away from my dinner and pulled into whatever mess you've created for yourselves," Webb said, irritated. Harm hadn't thought it would be easy to convince him to help, but it was going to be harder than he'd expected. Great. "Since when did I get stuck being your liaison, official or otherwise?"

"Because you're the one we know how to call," Bud answered honestly. They didn't have a lot of contacts in the CIA—and this was definitely something that screamed CIA, screamed cover up. It couldn't be anything less. Webb shot Bud a dark look.

Harm intervened, taking the heat off Bud. Webb saw the younger man's naivete as ineptitude, but despite the occasional naivete, Harm had come to value the young lieutenant's insights and knew he was going to be a fine lawyer. "Since this most likely has to deal with something your _company _is trying to keep secret. Now, we can help you keep it that way, but only if we know what we're not supposed to tell."

"Cute, Rabb."

Harm shook his head and handed Webb a paper with the few details they had on the admiral's friend. It wasn't much. Careles hadn't exactly left them with a lot to go on, and the admiral hadn't elaborated, either. They were men with plenty of secrets, and somehow it was going to get them all killed. "You want to tell us why your people seem to have made this SEAL's file disappear completely?"

Webb looked at it for a second and then crumpled it up. "Where did you get this name?"

"Just tell us why the files don't exist," Harm saw no reason to give Webb information when he clearly wasn't willing to do the same. What was it about Careles that had the spook spooked? All they'd given Webb was the name, really, and what could be so bad about one little name? What could one man have done that terrified an entire spy organization? Damn it, who the hell _was _this guy Careles? The admiral vouched for him, but what had he gotten them all into?"

"You don't understand, Rabb," Webb insisted, and Harm could see the worry in the other man's face, even if that should have been less obvious. "I need to know how you got this name."

"From a man who walked in off the street. He was looking for someone to help him challenge a return to active duty," Harm answered, leaving the part about Careles being a close friend of the admiral's out for now. That was something he'd divulge if it became necessary, but only then.

"This man just... _walked in?" _Webb demanded, shaking his head in disbelief. "How dumb do you think I am?"

"Respectfully, I'm going to invoke my article thirty-one rights and refuse to answer," Harm told him. Most of the time, he thought Webb was the biggest idiot that he had ever met. He didn't always think that—they were fairly good allies every now and again, but sometimes it felt Webb didn't have any kind of common sense, definitely not any _logistical _sense. Harm heard Bud snicker next to him, and Webb glared at the younger man.

Catching sight of Mac returning to her office, Harm flagged her down as she looked up from the file she was reading. She should have time now, and she'd want to hear this, too, if Webb ever got around to telling them what he knew. Then again, it was Webb. He wouldn't tell them all of what he knew, either. That was the way spooks like him worked, wasn't it?

Webb turned to greet Mac as she reached them. He gave her a warm smile that she raised an eyebrow to. "Ah, Major. Perhaps you'll be more forthcoming than your associates here have been. Where did you get this name?"

"Sorry, Webb. Not my case," she said with a shrug and a smile. He winced a little—clearly he'd rather deal with her and not with the rest of them. Harm, in particular. The feeling was mutual. "Harm and Bud were the ones that caught it. I've only come in on the tail end of things—since the boys seem to be in a little over their heads."

Harm frowned at her, immediately objecting to her words. He wasn't in over his head—someone was actively blocking him from doing his job. It didn't help that his client was as elusive as the people pulling the strings behind the curtains. "I resent that, Mac. Even with your innate 'Marine' timing, you can't tell me that you'd have been able to keep track of him any more than we could, and you weren't able to answer what happened to the files, either. That's why we're stuck with Webb."

"There is no way that man came in here with a simple recall to active duty," Webb insisted,and Harm didn't want to agree with him, but the man was almost right. They'd heard enough from the admiral, plus the missing files and Careles' erratic and suspicious behavior, to know that the letter was probably faked. He didn't disagree with that. There was a lot more going on with this case than anyone knew. They all knew that. The question was _what _that was. They needed more information—and Webb needed to give it to them already.

If they still had the letter... "We sent the letter for forensic processing by NCIS, or we'd show it to you. Up until Careles vanished and I learned his file didn't exist, it seemed like a straightforward case. I had no idea the letter was forged—if it is. It looked pretty damn authentic to all of us."

"Harm is right," Mac agreed. Webb looked at her suspiciously, like he was trying to gauge if she was joining in on stringing him along in some kind of prank or if they all meant this. They did. "The paper, the leader head, the language used, it all fit. Everything checked out. The officer issuing the recall is a real person, though we're having a hard time getting a hold of him."

"No luck?" Harm asked. She'd offered to take that part of the investigation, and this was the first time he'd heard the answer. She shook her head. If this was some kind of conspiracy, the man who'd signed those orders was probably already dead. Harm looked back at Webb. "Well? Why the hell does this bother you so much? Why are those files missing?"

"You people here have a big problem. There is no way those papers were real," Webb informed them. They exchanged a look. He still wasn't telling them anything they didn't already know. He sighed. "The reason that your file doesn't exist, the reason that the recall orders couldn't possibly be real, is that this man is—or at least _should be—_dead."

"That's the second time we've heard that today."

* * *

><p>"I'm worried," Bud admitted, taking a bite of his food. They were all gathered around the counter in Harm's kitchen, technically off-duty but unable to let the latest case go, working while they ate. It was hard to have an appetite, but they were military officers. They knew when they had to eat, regardless of whether or not they felt like it. This was one of those times. They'd eat, and they'd talk, and maybe something would come to them. "I don't know that talking to Webb was the right thing."<p>

Mac made a point of swirling her fries around in the sauce on the wrapper, watching Harm make a face in disgust. She put them in her mouth, and he faked a shudder. She smiled at him before turning back to Bud. "What do you mean?"

He started to answer, but then someone knocked on Harm's door. He frowned as he walked over to open it. All of them were there, so who could it be? Webb, maybe? The frown deepened as he saw Chegwidden standing there. "Uh, sorry, sir. Not expecting you."

"At ease, Commander," Chegwidden said, walking into the room. He looked around the room, nodding to the others as he saw them. "Lieutenant. Major."

"Sir," they both said, making an effort to clean their food up from their faces, still standing awkwardly at attention. The admiral waved, trying to get them to relax again.

"Have a seat, sir," Harm joked a little, since he still didn't have any chairs. He gestured to the food on the counter, trying to be a good host. Mac smiled a little. "We've got a variety here, if you'd like something, and Bud was just about to fill us in on his theory."

"I'm not hungry," the admiral said. He turned to Bud. "Proceed, Lieutenant."

"I don't really have a theory. I was thinking, that's all. It was about what Mr. Webb said, and... Well, it's just..." Bud stopped, reluctant to voice a wrong thought. Harm went to the side and pulled out a bottle of wine, uncorked it, and poured him a glass. The lieutenant's eyes got wide.

"Relax, Bud. This isn't a courtroom. Right now, we're just having a conversation over dinner," Harm insisted. He poured himself a glass and looked at Mac. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable here, either, but she was good, really. "Anything I can get you? Or should I put it away?"

She shook her head, drinking from her super size fountain drink. She'd always be tempted, but it was okay if they had some. She'd live. "I'm fine. I think Bud could use a bit, even."

Even the admiral smiled at that one. Bud glanced at the glass. "Thanks, but I don't think I really need it. I just... Well, I've been wondering. Webb said this guy was supposed to be dead. So if he's supposed to be dead, did we inadvertently let the wrong people know that he's not dead? What if there was a good reason that everyone thought he was dead?"

Mac considered that for a moment. Harm drank some of his wine, thinking it over. They looked to the admiral, but he wasn't paying attention. His mind was elsewhere as he looked around the room. He finally turned to the side, a darkened corner of the room. "I'm pretty damn curious, actually. How is it that we have two dead men walking?"

"Your guess is probably better than mine," Careles answered, and Bud knocked over his wine glass as he heard the other man's voice. Mac and Harm exchanged a look. How had they missed that? They were better trained than that.

"How did you get in here?"

"Took advantage of the shock and awe," Careles explained with a slight, amused smile. "You were all too unnerved by seeing your commanding officer at the door and afterward too focused on him to notice me walk in right behind him."

"Not bad."

"Not particularly impressive, either. Now what is this you're saying about me being a dead man?" Careles asked, not leaving the corner he'd taken up in, fiddling with something in his hand instead. "I have to say, it does help explain the vehicles out front."

"Vehicles?"

Careles nodded, his head turning toward the window a fraction. "Two of them. Unmarked. One with government plates. One without. They've been watching your loft for the better part of the evening. They must think you know something you haven't told them, but I can't think of what that could be seeing as how I myself told you... next to nothing."

"We didn't tell Webb about your connection to the admiral," Bud began. He looked down quickly when Careles focused on him. "But then again, he probably already knows about that."

"I don't know," Harm interjected. "When Osborne was targeting the admiral, we looked at the records and all of the members of his SEAL team were dead, all but the admiral. Unless, perhaps, one smart man went underground a long time before Osborne decided to resurrect a ghost."

Mac noticed the way that Careles stiffened when Osborne's name was mentioned, looking to Harm to see if he'd caught it. She turned back to Careles. "What is Osborne to you? Why would you hide from him?"

"I haven't been hiding from him. I haven't been hiding from anyone. I've been in plain sight for twenty years. This news of my supposed death is as much a surprise to me as it is to you," he told them. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. "Damn it."

The admiral looked at him. Mac thought she saw concern there—this man had some kind of deep connection and friendship with the admiral—though perhaps Chegwidden felt responsible because he had once been Careles' CO? "Is it Osborne?"

Careles shook his head. "No. Sorry. That's not pertinent to this conversation. No, it is, if only in the sense that I have to go. AJ, you'll keep me informed?"

"What the hell is going on, Nico?"

Careles sighed. "TK is about to breach security and put people in jeopardy. He doesn't have any idea what he's doing. No one does. I need to get back there and fix the security arrangements."

He pushed a button on his phone and waited for the call to connect. "Xeno, it's Nico. TK has had another incident and is incoming to the Santino house. No, double the guard, make sure he's alone, and let him see her. No, I'll be back first thing in the morning, and I will have the conversation with the doctor. I'm glad you think so highly of my survival skills. Remember, if anything happens to them—Good."

"Is there anything... we can do to help?" Harm began, and Careles looked at him incredulously. "Really. You're a friend of the admiral's and a former SEAL. We take care of our own."

"Except that his records are missing, and we can't actually prove that he was a SEAL."

"Bud!"

"Sorry."

Careles laughed. "There's no great mystery here. It looks a lot worse than it is because of the misdirect the CIA is handing you—about me being dead—and the convenient 'loss' of my files, but I understand my role quite clearly. I'm also prepared to play it—after I've ensured that there will be no collateral damage."

"What role?" Harm demanded, but Careles didn't answer as he left the room. With a sigh, Harm turned back to the admiral. "What is he talking about? I thought Osborne was dead."

"So did I, Commander. Nico says otherwise, and I'm inclined to believe him."

"Then... what do we do?" Bud asked nervously. He glanced toward the door and back at the admiral. "And what did he mean by the part he's going to play."

Mac patted him on the back gently. "Haven't you figured that out?"

Bud looked around at them. "I know, I know. Slow on the uptake. What does it mean? What did you all figure out while I'm still playing catch up."

"Bait, Lieutenant Roberts," the admiral answered. "Nico is the bait."


	4. Maneuvered into Place

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,510  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I think a legal battle with Nico in the middle of it would be... interesting, to say the least.

* * *

><p><strong>Maneuvered into Place<strong>

"Officially, the state department has taken over this investigation," AJ began, taking a look around his office. He didn't want to give this message, hated the words he was about to say, but he knew what was going to happen, and that gave him some measure of comfort despite the taste of what he had to say. Nico was a friend, a good man, and even the differences in their ranks hadn't meant a thing—not when they served together and not now. The higher ups were telling him to leave a good man out in the cold, and that was the last thing he felt like doing. "They're citing national security and need-to-know that we do not have. We are to cease all inquiries into Nico Careles and anyone he may or may not have served with. The matter is closed as far as the judge advocate general is concerned."

Rabb didn't like it. That much was clear on his face. AJ had expected as much, and he was counting on it. "But, sir, this was _our _case. Careles came to us. He was a Navy SEAL. That's our jurisdiction. No one should be pulling us off this case."

"Commander Rabb, you have been ordered to stand down," AJ insisted. His tone made everyone in the room stand at a sharper attention, tension in their every muscle. They were going to have to be on edge. This situation would require them all to be on their guard, constantly. "You will obey that order, whether you like it or not."

None of them liked it. He saw that in their faces. He approved of it, even if he couldn't say so. The politics and the higher ups had done their bests to tie his hands here, and he was going to play along—officially. He already had some ideas about getting around this thing, and he knew he had the right people to do just that.

It would depend, most of all, on Nico, but AJ already knew that man could handle his role and a hell of a lot more. The hardest part would be convincing the man to work with a team again. Nico had pulled away, isolated himself, as soon as the assassination orders had started coming, and then he'd gotten himself kicked out of the Navy. The work he did now—AJ couldn't hardly believe it, but then Nico was a loyal man. He thought he owed Pittman a debt, and that kept him trapped.

Hell, Chegwidden had half a mind to go up there, put Pittman's life in danger, and let Nico save the bastard just to help him break free of that hold. Pittman had been a useless soldier and a pathetic human being, the only thing that kept him afloat was his money—and the fact that Nico felt he owed him. If not for that, Pittman would have been done a long time ago.

AJ looked back at his staff again. "Major Mackenzie, I am sending you to New York. We have a complaint that a marine sergeant is harassing a professional football player. There will be media attention on this case, and I want this thing handled with as much... diplomacy as necessary. Lieutenant Roberts will assist."

"Aye, aye, sir," Roberts managed to agree with a bit of enthusiasm, though Mackenzie didn't pull off any at all. She was worried, and she didn't like being pulled, not now. She would understand later, but for now, she'd take her orders and follow them, like the soldier she was.

"Commander Rabb," Chegwidden turned to the one who would cause them all the most problems. "You will be going to Philadelphia. The _Saratoga _just put into port with allegations of a collision, and I want a neutral voice in the chaos. Dismissed."

Rabb's posture fell to at ease, but he didn't turn to leave. "Sir, if I may—"

"Absolutely not, Commander," AJ interrupted immediately. This was not a time for discussion. His office was no longer the place for that. "You have your orders. I want you on the next plane. You, too, Major."

"Yes, sir."

AJ watched them go, the door shutting behind them. He'd moved them into place, but he didn't know how much help that would be. He was going to need a cover and a bit of flexibility—fast. He didn't want to ask, but he had a feeling he knew exactly how to get them. It wouldn't take much, just a phone call, and he knew that even as much as people might suspect something of him taking a leave of absence now, they wouldn't be able to do much about it. All he needed to do now was make the call.

* * *

><p>Mac set the files down on the table and faced her client. This was a disaster, to say the least. The press was having a field day with it, using it to fuel anti-war sentiment. People thought they should have been out of the middle east a long time ago—or that they shouldn't have gone there in the first place. She knew that this—a case with a decorated soldier coming back from the war only to terrorize a very public figure—was not going to help the public image. She didn't want to deal with the politics, but she'd do her best. "Sergeant, you are facing charges of assault and harassment, even stalking. You do realize that the charges are no laughing matter. If you are convicted of assault, you will face hard time."<p>

"I didn't mean to hit him, ma'am," Sergeant Peale insisted. "It was an accident."

Bud shook his head, and Mac had to agree with him. She'd read the statements on the flight to New York. "That is not what the witnesses say. They say you deliberately provoked the encounter and that you threw the first punch."

"They're lying, ma'am."

She shook her head. She wasn't about to accept that line, and Peale should have known better than to try. "That's a little hard to believe when you have had an altercation with the same man before. On that occasion, you insulted him and were held back by his security. This is not a casual act, Sergeant, not an accident. This is a pattern of behavior. Fortunately, he and his representatives are willing to meet and settle this out of court."

"Really?"

"Yes," she agreed, thinking that at least that part had gone her way in this case. She'd gotten word as soon as they landed that the other side was willing to talk. "And we are going to hear them out and most likely accept the the terms."

"Ma'am, it ain't right," Peale began. He put his hands on the table and pleaded with her to understand. "They keep calling him a hero. A role model. That man is no hero. He's not even a good example. He drinks. He's violent. He's got a bad mouth. He is not someone for kids to look up to or want to be like."

"That still doesn't give you the right to stalk him or assault him."

"Ma'am, please," the sergeant began, but then the door opened. Bud and Peale looked back at the people who came into the room. Mac finished the note she was making, and closed the file. Then she opened it back up again, putting in more about Peale's reasons. It would be ugly in the courtroom, but attacking the victim was a very familiar tactic. Not one she liked using, but if she needed to, she would. She would give Peale the best defense she could.

"Yeah, that's him," a voice announced loudly, and she sighed. This would be the man who was not a hero or role model, clearly. She could sense Peale's tension even from here. "Punk who tried to fight me. Should've known he couldn't win against TK."

"Terrence, sit down and shut up."

Mac looked up as she heard the second voice. Careles was here. What was this? Had the admiral known—of course he had. That was why she'd been sent here, wasn't it? She'd been sent because the admiral knew that the victim had a connection to Careles. He'd put her close enough to help his friend in the only way he could. She should have made the connection herself between the TK Careles had mentioned and the Terrence King she'd read about.

This though, was interesting. Hadn't Harm mentioned that Careles had made a comment about the admiral being a lawyer? "Are you Mr. King's attorney?"

"I represent his interests, and that is all you need to know."

Bud frowned. "That's not how it works."

Clearly it did in Careles' book. "Mr. King was the victim. You are here to make a deal to keep the corporal in fighting status and restore the honor of the Corps."

"What would you know of Semper Fi?"

"I don't," Careles agreed, shrugging slightly as he leaned against the wall. "Never a jarhead."

At the term, the sergeant studied him. There was some residual military bearing bleeding through despite Careles' almost casual act. It was in the way he'd positioned himself in the room and kept a watchful eye on everyone. "Squid?"

"Frog."

The sergeant looked impressed, and Mac knew that Careles had just gained a rapport with him that she and Bud didn't have. "SEAL?"

"That's complicated."

"Did you see combat?"

"That's classified."

Peale nodded. "Sir, I apologize for my behavior. I meant no disrespect to the Corps. I lost a friend over there, and I came back to people saying a football player was a hero while they called me a killer for defending my country."

"I can see why that would bother you," Careles agreed almost sympathetically, "but Terrence's safety is my concern. You attacked him. That means you have to answer to me."

"He's going to answer to the US government," Mac began, and Careles gave her an amused smile. He would take matters into his own hands if he didn't like the outcome of a formal trial—all the more reason to settle this on their terms and out of court. "Unless we can reach an agreement, that is."

"Then let us discuss terms."

* * *

><p>"I thought we wanted to make a deal," Bud began, and Harm could hear the confusion in his voice, picturing him shaking his head. "It all seemed to be going so well, but then all of a sudden, the guy got completely unreasonable and refused to deal with us. What just happened in there?"<p>

"Bud, in case you missed it, the admiral sent us here not just to help the sergeant but also to help his friend," Mac said, taking the phone from him. "You did see him in that room, right? We both talked to him. We're here to—"

"Wait a minute, he's _there? _In New York?"

"Yes, Harm, he's here, and we are having dinner with him later tonight to finish the negotiations. And, I assume, to talk about the rest of it. How is the situation in Philadelphia?"

"Better now that I know why I'm here," Harm admitted. He had been struggling to figure out why he'd been sent up there in the first place. It was a simple case; no one wanted any charges. No one even had a problem. There seemed to be no reason for him to be there, at all. "I spoke to the captain on the _Saratoga, _he said the collision was minor. Spoke to the other captain, he said—and I quote, 'what collision?' I was starting to think I'd made the admiral pretty damn mad, though I didn't know how I could have done that."

"Well, sir, it did seem like the admiral's friend didn't like you very much, and he did kind of run circles around us the entire time he was in Virginia," Bud began. Harm knew he didn't have the best relationship with Careles—but he suspected few people did, and the admiral was one of those few. It didn't really bother Harm, other than the fact that he would much rather have gotten the case in New York than the one in Philadelphia. He still didn't know if that was intentional or not. "And here, for that matter. I still don't understand how we went from friendly—the sergeant has a lot of respect for Careles as a former SEAL, and it looked like Careles was going to deal, like he had complete control over this guy King, but then it all changed, King made outrageous demands, and Careles didn't do anything about them. The sergeant refused to agree, and we all left."

"Sounds to me like he's arranging to keep you in town for a while. If the situation is too much for you two alone, maybe I should join you?"

Mac laughed. "I think we're more than capable of handling it on our own, but I think you were sent as close by as possible for a reason. I don't know if you'll be here in time, but you could always join us for dinner."

"Are you sure he wants all of us, ma'am? I didn't even hear him give the invitation, only when he turned back to tell you to wear something that wasn't a uniform," Bud said, and Harm had to wonder if Mac was blushing at all. For a beautiful female marine, she could be surprisingly self-conscious when someone gave her a compliment or asked her out. "And he did say that it was more of a formal place than a casual one."

"That doesn't mean he was asking me out, Bud. It just means that he wanted to talk to us without anyone else around. The case is a perfect excuse for that, _if _anyone is watching."

"The admiral and Careles seem to agree that someone is. In fact, we probably shouldn't even be having this conversation," Harm admitted. He looked at his watch. If he rented a car, it would be a two, three hour drive. He might still make dinner, if only the last course. "Give me the name of that restaurant. I'm going to see what kind of transportation I can dig up."

"You're not really going to try and get someone to lend you a tomcat, are you?"

"Major, you think you know me so well..." Harm shook his head. He doubted anyone would lend him a plane or that he could get a regular flight to make it there in time, but he wanted to be in New York with the others. Maybe if nothing else, he could help with the collateral damage that Careles wanted to prevent. Anything, though, was better than sitting in this hotel room overnight when he didn't need to be.

"I'll give you the name of our hotel as well," Mac said. "If you make it up here, room two-three-two is Bud's, and I'm sure you can bunk with him for the night."

"Uh, Major, I was only given a single by the hotel—"

"We can sleep in shifts, Lieutenant."


	5. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 3,385  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I couldn't resist going back to the Tuesday Night Restaurant...

* * *

><p><strong>Guess Who's Coming to Dinner<strong>

"Major?" Nico asked, coming up behind her, and she almost jumped. The younger man did, since Nico had managed to approach them without either officer noticing. "You're early."

"Two minutes and forty-nine seconds," she said with conviction, like she had just looked at a clock even though he knew that she had not. Roberts seemed used to this, and it seemed to Nico that he'd known a marine once that did something similar. In any event, he didn't feel like challenging it. "That is, if you factored in us being fifteen minutes early to scout the location. Otherwise, it's seventeen minutes."

He gave her a slight smile. "I knew you would be here before the time I gave you, yes."

"Have you been waiting a long time, sir?" Roberts asked with a slight frown. "I wasn't sure I should come, and I'm not sure I'm dressed right for this place. If I'm not, I can—"

"At ease, Bud," the major told him as she pulled him along, following Nico to the corner booth he'd gotten for the evening. It should have enough room for everyone, even if he did not like its tactical position as much as he did the booth he usually sat in. "I have to say, I expected a little more cooperation from you."

Nico glanced at her, tempted to laugh. "I don't know why. None of my other behavior would suggest that, would it?"

Mackenzie smiled as she waited for Roberts to scoot over and allow her to sit. "I suppose not."

Nico took a place on the opposite side of the table, reaching for his water as Mackenzie sat and Roberts picked up his menu. With her usual expediency—the young woman was consistent, always ready to assist him regardless of what she was actually scheduled to work that night—Marcie appeared at the edge of the table, a warm smile for everyone. "Can I get your guests anything, Mr. Careles?"

Roberts' eyes got wide as he looked at the menu. "Uh, sir..."

"A bottle of the house red for the ones that are coming, two club sodas, and a water for Mr. Roberts until he recovers from the menu," Nico ordered for everyone, aware that his companions were giving him odd looks. "Thank you, Marcie."

"Anything for you," she agreed with another smile, turning to leave. Mackenzie gave him a look. He could have explained how he knew Marcie and why she was so eager to take care of him any time he visited this restaurant, but he chose not to. It was not something either JAG officer needed to know.

"I take it we weren't the only ones you were expecting," Mackenzie observed, letting the subject of Marcie pass. "Who else, then? Osborne?"

"I have no doubt that he is around somewhere, but the only drink I'd offer him is poison," Nico said, shaking his head. "He knows that. He'll keep his distance."

"Would you, sir?" Roberts asked, frowning. He set the menu down and looked right at Nico, worried. "Poison him?"

Mackenzie gave the junior officer a look, and Nico wondered what it would take to convince him not to call him 'sir.' Some people cared for that, but Nico never had. Given the way his career with the Navy had ended, he was not really comfortable with the idea of someone addressing him that way.

"Excuse me," he said, getting to his feet as he saw one of the others he'd expected entering the restaurant. As he had with the two from JAG, he walked up right behind her without her seeing him. "The table you're looking for is over here."

"The what—Nico?"

"I've been expecting you, Doctor Santino. It is Tuesday, after all."

She winced. "It's that obvious, is it?"

"That you did not believe that I ate here on a regular basis? Yes," he agreed, walking back toward the booth again. She rushed after him, even though there was no need to hurry, not at this point. Perhaps later. It did not help matters that she had shown up here, but Osborne had already made her a target. The next step was to put her in the hands of people who knew what the man was capable of, people that could protect her. Nico knew he could not do it himself—his role required that he remain in the open. Getting her out of harm's way would not be easy, though.

"I didn't know you had company, Nico. If I did, I'd—"

"Sit."

She frowned at him, but she did, scooting in a little to allow him to sit on the outside. "Okay."

"Danielle Santino, Sarah Mackenzie and Bud Roberts, Junior," Nico introduced them, but before it got any further than that, Marcie returned with the drinks. She gave Roberts the water, Mackenzie one of the club sodas, Nico the other, and filled a glass of wine from the bottle for Santino.

"Anything else? Did you want to order now or wait?"

"We'll wait a few minutes, Marcie," Nico told her, and she nodded, taking her tray with her back into the kitchen.

Santino looked at him. "Did you pay her to do that?"

"How well _does _she know you, Careles?" Mackenzie wondered aloud, reaching for her club soda. She pointed to his. "That because of the situation or should I ask how long?"

"Fifteen years. You?"

"Had that, once," she admitted, looking down into the glass. "Kind of threw it away."

"I didn't say they were consecutive," Nico pointed out, and Mackenzie looked up at him with a smile, nodding with understanding. He turned to the doctor. "I'm sure your curiosity is starting to get the better of you by now."

"If by that you mean, am I wondering what's going on? Yes, I am," Santino agreed, taking a long drink from the wine. "Should I start with the lack of formal address or jump right to the more personal questions? Do I need to know how all of you know each other?"

"You're not going to guess?" Nico inquired, amused. He raised a hand, and Marcie came over to the table. "Would you tell the tall man who just came in to join us over here?"

"Of course, Mr. Careles."

"Is this... a reunion or a party or something I should never have gotten in the middle of? I can leave. It's not like I have to interrupt your dinner. I know it was stupid of me to not to trust you about the Tuesday night restaurant thing, but it was a bit too coincidental for me, especially after you'd read JD's book."

"Actually, from what I understand, you're already in the middle of it," Roberts told her. "There's a man who should be dead but is not dead—and I guess Mr. Careles is supposed to be dead, too—but the guy who's supposed to be dead might come after you because of your connection to Mr. Careles."

* * *

><p>Santino blinked. "What?"<p>

"Am I interrupting something?" Harm asked, as Mac practically shoved Bud over in the booth to make a spot for him. The silence at the table was uncomfortable at best. He almost regretted making the drive, but then again, he'd hated Osborne from the moment he met him, and he didn't want to let that man get anywhere with this. That bastard should have been dealt with by Webb's people at the CIA. None of them knew why he hadn't been, but they were going to find out.

"Mr. Roberts has just explained—if that is the right word—the situation to Doctor Santino," Careles answered. "A glass for the commander, Marcie, and then we'll give him a few minutes to figure out what he is willing to eat. Vegetarians can be picky."

"We have several excellent salads, if that's any help. Also, the special is the meatless lasagna—I kind of like that myself," Marcie offered with a smile. "Mr. Careles helped approve the menu, so if you have any questions, just ask him."

"You helped them create their menu?" Santino demanded, looking over at Careles as the waitress left. "You're a food critic, too?"

"That is Marcie's idea of a joke, Doctor. She always asks if I enjoyed my meal, and I am honest about whether I did or not. If I did not, then she always wants to know why, and I have been told that several dishes have been improved based on my critiques, but I think that is also her sense of humor talking," Careles told her, and Santino shook her head. "The lieutenant was correct about the situation, if perhaps confusing in the way he explained it."

"Someone is after you?"

"I am not sure if it is me, specifically," Careles began, reaching for his club soda. "I understand where I have been placed in this, and I can only apologize for pulling you into the middle of it. There are other people who decided my role, but the man they're really after chose yours. He doesn't want to come after me directly. He chose a vulnerable place in my organization instead."

"Because I'm one of the few women involved with the Hawks? Why not one of the cheerleaders?"

"I'd assume it's because none of them have a close working relationship with Nico," the admiral said, causing Santino to look up at him. They all did, each of them staring a little. Harm should be the most uncomfortable—he was supposed to be in Philadelphia, right? But he wasn't. He was in New York. He could actually be in trouble for disobeying orders—if the admiral hadn't sent them all up here to help Careles. "Frankly, if I had to pick a target, I would have said Juliette."

"Who's Juliette?" Santino asked. "For that matter, who are all of these people, and what is going on? No more vague answers. I know how much you like them, but you don't get to be vague when my life is apparently in danger."

"Doctor Santino, Admiral AJ Chegwidden, head of the Judge Advocate General corps, and my former commanding officer," Careles said, and Harm nudged Mac. She moved Bud again, and they all made room for the admiral to sit. Harm hadn't really gotten the sense that the admiral and Careles weren't equal in rank when they served together, but that shouldn't really have surprised him. "Juliette is not relevant to the conversation. You have already met Lieutenant Roberts and Major Mackenzie, but you were not introduced to Commander Rabb yet. And now one of the lawyers should explain."

"I don't know that we know all of the details we should," Harm admitted. Careles gave him a look, and he was grateful for the arrival of the waitress with a glass for him and a much darker, much stronger drink for the admiral.

"Thank you, Marcie," the admiral told her, and she smiled at him. "I want the best steak you've got, rare, and I think the major would like the same, if only to annoy the commander. He wants your special, I assume. Mr. Roberts?"

"Uh..."

"Do not worry about the price, if that is what bothers you, Roberts. This dinner is on Marshall Pittman."

"The media mogul? You... know him?"

"Unfortunately," Chegwidden muttered. Santino looked intrigued, and Careles tried not to react at all. Interesting. "Order your food, Roberts."

"Uh... the special."

Santino realized the waitress had turned to her. "Oh, I didn't even—"

"Last week's special with extra sauce for the doctor," Nico said as the menus were passed toward the waitress. Marcie gathered them all up and stacked them. "The usual for me."

She nodded, leaving them with a bright smile. Harm looked around the table. Santino was the only civilian here—Careles didn't count since he still acted more like a soldier on guard in hostile territory, insisting on the vantage point that he had and keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings even as he was interacting with the waitress.

"Explanation. Now," Santino commanded, rivaling the admiral's tone when he was annoyed with them. Careles smiled at her, and Bud started to explain, but Mac intervened.

"We had a case come into our office involving a former covert operative," Mac began, and Santino's eyes went to Careles. He shook his head. "The man's name is Osborne. The case where we first met him involved a man framed for espionage. He took the admiral hostage, and Osborne supposedly came to 'help.'"

"But Osborne was there to... kill?"

"To eliminate the man they'd framed and cover up any tracks, yes," Mac agreed. "Osborne was what they called a 'cleaner.' He had history with the admiral—and we now know that he had some with Careles, though Harm is right in that we don't have the details there. He came back, resurrecting a dead man, a rogue operative who taunted his kills with a clay Buddha statue."

"The admiral was—we assumed—the last member of that SEAL team still alive," Harm added. Everyone looked at Careles, but he didn't respond, not even the slightest movement of his head one way or another. "Osborne threatened the admiral. He... killed a friend of the admiral's in a trap meant for him."

"Is that why you think I'm a target?" Santino asked, frowning. "Because—"

"Osborne told me you were," Careles interrupted. "There is no doubt in my mind that he will come after you. We need to relocate you, your children, your mother, and possibly your ex-husband until this is over."

Santino nodded. "I can accept that, I guess... I just—why you, Nico? Why did this guy suddenly come after you? Does it have to do with what you told me about being recalled to active duty?"

"That was how they got me back to Osborne's attention, but that's not why he went after me—well, is coming after me. He's going to play his games first. You can allow yourself to be a part of them or you can accept that leaving—_hiding—_is in your best interests," Careles said. He looked at her and shook his head. "With Osborne, it has always been about his pride. AJ outmaneuvered him in the hostage situation, and that led to the attacks that killed the judge. Osborne was turned over to his handlers, who were expected to terminate him. If they chose not to, he must have something extremely valuable as leverage, but they've lost control of him again. They expected him to go after the admiral again, but he didn't. So they issued me a recall to active duty."

"But if he's so dangerous, if he killed people, how is he free?"

"Most of Osborne's killings were sanctioned, at least the ones that can be proven. The mine that killed the judge was something that couldn't be proven. The team from JAG did as much as they could to make sure Osborne never saw the light of day. That the intelligence community didn't hold up their end of it should not have been all that surprising, but then maybe we all wanted to believe Osborne was gone, some of us more than others."

"Why is he after you?"

"Because I let him live when I should have killed him," the admiral muttered, and Careles almost smiled at that. "I knew better than to trust that they'd actually deal with him. They just shuffled him off to somewhere else, thinking they could still use him or something."

"You can't take the blame for this, either. If I'd killed him back when this all started, none of it would have happened," Careles said. He finished his drink and set it on the table. "We all knew what Osborne was. I just didn't have what it took to deal with it as it should have been dealt with, not then."

"You'd just come off a bad operation, remember?"

Careles closed his eyes. Whatever had happened then, it had to have been _real _bad. Harm wished they'd been able to see his service record, have some kind of basis for understanding this. "It's no excuse."

* * *

><p>"Nico, I know that this might not be the best time for me to ask, but... can I talk to you... alone?" Dani began. She understood why he'd ordered her a drink, but no amount of wine was really going to take the edge off that conversation. Not only was Nico telling her that her life—and her family—was in danger, he was actually talking about <em>killing <em>someone. Whoever this Osborne was—and she knew that he was not a good man; they'd said he was a killer who tormented his victims—he might deserved death, but it bothered her that a man she worked with, a man she had actually come to consider a friend, was talking about killing someone, was regretting _not _killing him.

She had always known there was a darkness to Nico, but this was not... him. This was not the man she'd come to know in her time with the Hawks, and she did not want him to _become _that, either.

"We don't really have time for side discussions," Nico began. "We should move your family immediately—in fact, I sent Xeno to your house for the children and one of the others has gone for your mother."

"But not Ray?"

He smiled slightly. "I owe whoever goes over there extra pay, so I was still deciding who got that particular detail."

In spite of herself, Dani laughed. "You really don't like Ray, do you?"

"I've never met the man, but our dealings through intermediaries have not been... pleasant."

"I didn't know that you'd had anything to do with my ex-husband at all," she began, and he just shrugged. Of course he wouldn't tell her that. He was Nico. Nico didn't tell her anything unless he had to. None of what he'd said during this conversation had been something he _wanted _to tell her. He would have left her completely in the dark if he could have. "If we're in such a hurry, though, why did we actually sit down and order dinner?"

"Because we are being watched."

The military officers all did a discreet check. Dani was sure she looked far more obvious than they did. Rabb was the one that asked, though. "You sure about that?"

"Yes, but on the bright side, it's the CIA."

"That's a _bright _side?" Dani demanded. "Why is that a good thing?"

"It means that Osborne is less likely to make a move. They're watching me, but he knows that," Nico explained. "He won't want witnesses. It's when we're not being watched that we should be concerned about."

Dani sighed. "So... we eat dinner, pretend nothing is wrong, and leave? You take me and hide me, and then what?"

"Well, then he draws Osborne out," Roberts answered, and Dani looked over at Nico, shaking her head. No. That had better _not _be the plan.

"What, you're _bait _for this guy? They—the CIA, right?—they set you up as _bait _for this Osborne guy? And you're just going to go _along _with it? Nico, why the hell would you do that? You can't possibly think that it's a _good _idea, can you? Do you care _nothing _about your own life? There _are_ people who care about you."

Nico looked at her, amused. "Are there? That will disappoint the CIA but make Osborne happier. Of course, he'd rather take out each and every one of them before he touched me, so please, don't give out any names."

"This is not funny," she said. "I don't know how you can joke about that."

"Military humor tends toward a bit... morbid," Mackenzie said, looking down at her empty glass. "There are worse ways of handling a situation like this."

"I don't doubt that, and I hate to be the lone civilian that's freaking out about it, but I see things differently," Dani said. She touched Nico's arm. "You are a smart man. I know you could find another way to handle this—one that doesn't get you killed or make you a killer."

Nico's eyes went to her hand, and she almost pulled it away. Then he lifted his head, meeting her gaze with a frightening intensity. "You're overlooking the obvious, Danielle. I _am _a killer. If I hadn't been, Osborne would never have had any interest in me."


	6. Levels of Cooperation

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 3,310  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I started calling this part the dinner that would not end when I was writing. It _did _end, but it seemed to take a while to get there, lol...

* * *

><p><strong>Levels of Cooperation<strong>

"I can't eat," Santino said, looking worriedly at the plate of pasta that was sitting in front of her. It wasn't that she'd really ordered more than she could handle, but her appetite had gone after her friend's revelation. Bud felt bad for her. He couldn't help but be reminded of the commander's Annie. She wasn't meant for a military life, as much as her son loved it—and her husband had, and even Commander Rabb.

Of course, Careles wasn't military, not anymore.

"It's not really as bad as you think, ma'am," Bud began, and Santino looked over at him. He was aware of more than her eyes, too. He nodded. "Mr. Careles _was _a SEAL. He saw combat, and he killed in the line of duty."

"Don't sugar coat things, Mr. Roberts. What I did was not for any war, and definitely not when Osborne was giving the orders," Careles disagreed. Bud looked at him. He supposed if he said anything else, the man would call him on his own service record. It was true that Bud had never actually killed anyone, that he'd never seen combat—the _Sea Hawk _had been stationed and the ship's fighter pilots flew missions in the no-fly zone, they took down enemy fighters, but Bud had only been the public relations officer.

"Are you trying to drive a wedge? Trying to push me away?" Santino asked, frowning at him. "I thought I was supposed to trust you, let you handle my security and that of my family. Then you drop this bombshell on me—I guess I should have known, but still... You tell me that you're a killer, and you won't let it be that you served. You want me to have the worst possible idea of who you are. Why?"

"I don't think we can afford to have any illusions here," Careles said, picking up his fork. "You seem to have an idealized version of who I am, and while I don't relish shattering it, I _have _brought this into your life. It is because of me. The only assurance I can give you is that I will do everything I can to make sure that no harm comes to you or anyone in your family."

"I didn't doubt that before, and I don't doubt it now, but I don't see why you had to be—"

"Just eat. Marcie will be disappointed if we don't like our food, and we _do _need to leave."

Bud watched Santino try to eat her meal. Everyone else was doing a better job of it—but then they were all military, all trained to eat when they could, sleep when they could. "If I may, sir—er, sirs? I was thinking that... Well, Commander Rabb _has _run a protection detail, so he could be of assistance, I guess, and we're all officers, so we have training, but... Our area of expertise is the law."

"That doesn't make us useless, Roberts," the admiral warned, and Bud gulped as he looked over at him. He didn't know how to explain that, not exactly. "We have more experience with the man in question. The only other person that does is Webb."

"Webb?"

"Clayton Webb, with the state department."

"Then it's not the one I knew," Careles said, reaching for his water glass. "I did have the misfortune of working with a man from the state department before, same last name, not the same first."

"I understand it's a family business."

Careles winced. "Then I imagine he's as bad as his father—and were that man not dead, then I would think that this was _his _idea."

"Well, he could be the one behind it. The Webb we know," Rabb said, and Bud looked over at him. The commander really didn't like Mr. Webb, did he? It was kind of funny sometimes. They got along, and then they didn't. Sometimes they were friends, and the rest of the time, they were enemies. Webb _had _helped them with some of their cases, but sometimes he wouldn't. This was one of those times. Sort of. They didn't really have any proof that Webb was involved in making Careles' files disappear, though he had been worried by the man.

"Webb was the one who told us you were dead and tried to warn us away from the case."

Santino looked over at Careles. "So, you're really that dangerous, Nico?"

"Yes." The words were said matter-of-factly, as if Careles agreed with the assessment but did not sound _proud _of it. He knew what he could do, but he wasn't going to brag about it. "They chose the right person for bait, Doctor. I know what I'm doing. I doubt they do."

* * *

><p>"Where will you take me?" Dani asked, reaching for her wine again. She was drinking too much, and she knew it. She wanted to be more in control, wanted to feel like the professional she was and not the scared woman and mother who was facing a situation she still couldn't understand, with Nico determined to make himself into the bad guy here. Was she thrilled that his past had created problems for her, put her life at risk? No. But did he have to try and scare her further, trying to make her afraid of <em>him? <em>He was supposed to protect her, and she needed to trust him. This was the worst possible time for him to push her away.

And yet she knew why he was doing it. If he could act like he didn't care, if she didn't care, then he didn't have to worry about the fact that he was bait. He could go on pretending that it wouldn't matter if he died. He could pretend that she hated him enough for what was happening not to matter. He could keep his distance from her, not let himself get distracted by worrying about her.

"There are several possible locations. I haven't settled on a permanent one," Nico answered, looking down at his phone. "Your mother and children have been relocated."

"Together or separately?"

"It would be better if they were separate. It's a whole lot harder to find three locations than it is just one," Rabb observed, and Dani looked over at him before turning back to Nico.

"I'm going to be separated from Ray Jay and Lindsay the whole time?"

"For your safety, that would be the best option," Mackenzie said, giving her a sympathetic look. "You're the primary target at this point, but if he can't get to you, he'd go for your children. Separating you makes it so that he can't get at all of you at once. From what we know of Osborne, he wouldn't hesitate to kill all of you or use your children against you."

Dani took a deep breath. "And if something happens to them? I get to spend my time worrying about them? That's it? At least if we're together I don't have to go out of my mind, and neither do they. I'm not saying you have to put us where my mom is and please, _please _do not bring Ray there, but I'd rather not be separated from my children if there's any way around it. What if this guy pretends to be someone in security, telling me he'll take me to them because something happened? I know I'd be suspicious, but probably not enough. These are my children we're talking about."

"If possible, we'll move you to a location where you can all be together. Until we know more, though, separation is the only option," Nico said, and Dani sighed. She was trying not to lose it here. She knew she would get through it, but she worried about her kids even when they were with Ray. She couldn't help it. She needed to know they were safe if she was going to have any kind of peace of mind.

"Fine. But I want updates. More than once a day. Or this won't happen. At all. I won't go if I can't have that."

Nico looked over at Chegwidden. "Was Francesca this much trouble?"

The admiral smiled. "Well, she doesn't have kids yet, thank god, but she certainly didn't want to believe me when I said her life was in danger or allow me to take her anywhere safe. I don't think I've heard that many insults in Italian since my divorce."

"From her or from the men I sent to handle her detail?"

"Both, actually," Chegwidden admitted, laughing. "Where did you dig up those two, anyway?"

The answer Nico gave went by in a flash of rapid Italian, and the admiral frowned at him, shaking his head. "Only you, Nico. Still, even though my daughter speaks perfect English, I'm glad you found her security that speaks Italian as well."

"Couldn't have her using the language barrier to manipulate them and possibly escape. I have at least one man on each of her teams that speaks Italian, just in case. What concerns me is that Osborne hasn't made any threats against her—not now and not then. Not directly. It's not like him."

"Could be it wasn't really him."

Nico shot Rabb a dark look. "There is no way I would have forgotten that man—not one detail about him. The way he smelled, the way he spoke, the sound of his voice, the look on his face, in his eyes... You don't forget the man who taught you to kill. I know it was Osborne. I knew before he even spoke, before I saw him. There's something about being in his presence. That's how I can say he's not here, how I know our watchers are CIA and not him."

"Osborne was never an instructor, though, was he?"

"Leave it alone, Commander. There are some questions you don't get answered."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>"Your coat, Mr. Careles," Marcie said, handing it to him as he reached the hostess stand. He took it and slipped it on. "You had quite a few guests tonight. I hope they enjoyed their meal."<p>

"It was excellent, as usual," Nico assured her. Their conversation may have made dinner an unpleasant occasion, but the service and food were at their normal standard. Marcie had coped admirably with the changing dynamics of the table, but then she always did. "Thank you, Marcie. You're still taking that trip with your brothers?"

She nodded. "Yes. Leaving first thing in the morning. I thought they'd have had enough of playing in the woods and survival training, but they can't wait to have their annual contest and see which special force is better than the other."

"I'm partial to SEALs myself," Nico admitted. "Not that I don't think highly of some of the other units your brothers have gone into. Rangers, Green Berets, Force Recon... All of them have their needs and uses."

"Hey, don't forget the Air Force. I've got brothers in there, too," she objected, laughing. "I can't wait to get them out of my apartment, though. None of them belong in the city, and nowhere is big enough for that many male egos."

If not for the many male egos in Marcie's family, Nico knew he'd be trying to get her into hiding as well. He didn't like the idea of her leaving on a wilderness trip, but she was the youngest child in a very large family, and all of her brothers had training that would keep her safe. She wasn't completely defenseless, either. "Be careful, Marcie."

"Always," she agreed with a smile. "And you, too, Mr. Careles. Can't let anything happen to my favorite customer."

He shook his head, and she moved away to greet more customers. He would have expected the major and the doctor to have returned from the ladies' room by now, but perhaps Santino needed some time to accept what she'd heard and where she was going. It would not be easy for her, and it was optimistic to think this would be a short process. Osborne would want to draw it out, cause as much damage as he could.

"Careles?"

Nico turned around to look at the man in the suit. He hated these types. So smug. So convinced that they were right when they rarely were. "I have to say, you're not very impressive for a ghost."

"I was never a dead man nor was I hiding," Nico said. "It is a good thing I never had children, though, since you would seem to be proof that the apple does not fall far from the tree, Mr. Webb. You are entirely too much like your father."

The other man looked surprised for a moment, but he tried to cover it quickly. "Nice try, Careles, but you never worked with my father."

"No, not exactly."

"Should have known we'd run into you, Webb," Chegwidden said, annoyed. Clearly, the son was just as much of a problem as the father had been.

"Just as I knew there was no way you'd stay out of this and do what you were told."

"You'll forgive me if I'm unwilling to entrust my safety or that of anyone I know to an agency that betrayed me, lost my records, and set me up as bait for a psychopath who should have been dead a long time ago," Nico muttered. "Go away, Webb. There will be no cooperation here, and if you think that I'm going to let you—the CIA—take custody of Osborne again, you are _very _mistaken."

Nico reached back for Santino's arm and pulled her through the others. She gave him a concerned look as she got close to him. Webb frowned, but Rabb immediately blocked him. Webb gave him an exasperated look. Marcie came back, her face almost completely obscured by the coats in her arms.

"Admiral," she began, passing the first coat to him. "Major. Commander. And you're... a lieutenant, yes? There you go. And yours as well, Doctor. Thank you all for coming in tonight, and remember that friends of Mr. Careles are always welcome."

"He's not a friend," Nico said, pointing to Webb. "Is the Combat Control brother working as a bouncer right now?"

Marcie nodded. "Yes, and he'd be happy to keep anyone he needs to out. Of course, he'd have to fight Force Recon for the right to do it."

"Any of your brothers could handle him, I'm sure, if he gives you any trouble in the future," Nico told her. "Give the general my regards."

"Of course. She'll be sorry she missed you."

Webb shook his head. "I don't believe this."

Nico laughed a little and took hold of Santino's arm again now that she had her jacket on. She was surprisingly quiet. "We need to go."

* * *

><p>As they left the restaurant, the military officers apparently running interference for them, more was running through Dani's brain than she felt capable of processing, and she didn't know what to do. A part of her wanted to scream, another to cry. She wanted to smack Nico—not just because he'd gotten her into this but because he should care more about himself—and then she wanted to hug him because, again, he should realize that people cared about him—look at Marcie and that Admiral Chegwidden. They both cared about Nico, though it was far more obvious in Marcie's case. Dani had to wonder what her story was.<p>

"How do you know Marcie?" she asked, settling on the least explosive of all topics. Maybe Nico would feel this one was a better one to allow some details to slip—since Osborne and all of that past were clearly off limits.

"I helped her diffuse a situation with an angry and violent customer," Nico answered. "Her brothers were overseas at the time—all of them—and when she saw what I did, I reminded her of them, and she got... attached. I think you call it transference?"

Dani nodded. It was, a bit, though she thought he was trying to lessen the importance—not only of what he'd done—of what Marcie felt toward him. "Did you arrange protection for her, too?"

"Her brothers are in the city. They are more than enough protection for her, though I have had her under surveillance since I learned of Osborne's return," Nico explained. She looked at him. "Marcie has several brothers, all of whom serve in the military, all special forces from all the various branches. She's probably safer than you are at the moment."

Dani made a face. "That is not a comforting thought, Nico."

"I never said it was."

She sighed. "I'm supposed to go with you right now, yes? No stops at home, no picking up anything as far as clothes or pictures or... anything?"

He nodded. "The necessary items can be procured later, but your house is a compromised location. You can't go back there. It's possible that Osborne has already rigged something, and you'd be walking right into his trap. We're going to need to get rid of your phone and anything else that might be able to be traced—that is, anything electronic."

Dani bit her lip. "Is it too much to ask to get something from my car? I only brought in the small purse, and it doesn't actually have the pictures in it. It wouldn't matter if I could keep the phone, but since I can't, there are some print photos of the kids in my other purse. Can I get them, or is that too much of a risk, too?"

Nico looked conflicted. She pointed to the car at the far end of the lot. "That's yours, right? So, technically, my car is on the way to yours, so... Not a big loss of time, is it?"

He didn't answer, but she decided to take that as permission. She really didn't think it could _hurt _to grab the pictures. At least then she'd have _something. _Some tie to her children since she couldn't talk to them or see them or hold them. Not that either of them would want to be held, but...she wanted to hold them, to tell them it would be okay and in telling them, tell _herself. _The pictures weren't that great, but they would be a little thing she could use to get through this.

"Wait."

Dani stopped just in front of her car and bit back a curse. She turned around. "What?"

Nico looked around the parking lot, searching for something. "It doesn't feel right. Remember, I said I could feel him. I have that feeling right now."

"With the CIA watching and everything? I thought you said that would keep him from making a move right now."

"Inside the restaurant, yes. Still, if the CIA is watching me to see when he shows himself, their focus was _inside. _Even if they have someone keeping an eye on the parking lot... He could have been out here the entire time."

She didn't doubt that. "Okay, then. What do we do?"

"Get away from your car, for one thing," Nico said, moving closer to her. She started to back away, back toward him, but the ground shook and she lost her balance. She heard a deafening _boom _almost right in her ear, felt a warm rush of heat all around her. Then something hit her, and she went down.

She struggled to get up, move away from the fireball that her car had just become, but something held her down. Nico's voice was a whisper, even though she was pretty sure he was yelling. "Don't move. The fire is far enough away, and if he can see you're moving, he'll try again."

"Again? With what? My car _already _blew up."

She shouldn't have asked. There was another boom, and the car flipped up in the air. Nico grabbed hold of her, rolling both of them over as the car came crashing back down.


	7. Blame in the Aftermath

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,948  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I have to admit, exploring this side of Nico is kind of... fascinating...

* * *

><p><strong>Blame in the Aftermath<strong>

"What the hell was that?" Someone shouted as the front of the restaurant shook a little. The doors wanted to come off their hinges. Glasses rattled, some falling over and shattering. Dishes banged together, silverware clattered, and people near the door almost lost their balance.

"Call the police!"

"Nico," Chegwidden said, pushing his way past the crowd in the entrance way and going out the doors. The night sky was filled with smoke and the bright light of a fire, a car burning like a humvee in a war zone. AJ ran toward it, stopping when he felt the heat of the flames.

"Sir?"

AJ looked back. Rabb and Mackenzie had reached his side. Roberts made it a second later, looking winded. Perhaps he needed to have his physical status reevaluated. "Were they... inside it when it blew? We were only a minute behind them..."

The admiral ignored them. A car bomb would have been too damn easy. He'd known that man to pull himself out of situations far worse without a scratch. He didn't care how long ago that was. "Nico! Damn it, Careles, answer me!"

A warped piece of metal flipped over, and AJ could see someone moving slowly. "Stay back, AJ. He's still here. Still watching. Waiting to take out anyone that tries to help us."

The admiral let out a breath in relief. "You hurt? Give me a sit rep."

"Bruised, possible concussion," Nico answered slowly, pushing himself up on one arm, keeping the other cradled against his chest. "Mostly just shaken. Some bruising. Easy, Danielle. Stay still, just a bit longer."

"Sir?"

"If Nico says Osborne is watching, then he is," AJ said, scanning the area. "With this darkness, the buildings around here... He could be anywhere."

"Not where the CIA is watching, right, Webb?"

Chegwidden turned and grabbed Webb by the jacket. "You listen to me, and you listen good. I don't care _what _agency you work for or what that agency thinks is for the greater good, if you put any of my people at risk like this again, you will find out just what a SEAL is truly capable of doing."

"This isn't my operation," Webb objected. "Careles _would _have protection if he would have been willing to hear me out. We have—"

"You have _nothing. _You let a killer go free, a man I gave to you because you _assured _me that he would be dealt with. Now that killer is after a friend of mine and a woman that has nothing to do with any of this. That woman has two children. Does any of this get through to you, or do I need to beat it into your skull?"

"I was just as much in the dark as the rest of you were," Webb said, shaking his head. "I was told months ago that Careles was a dead man who'd resurfaced, extremely dangerous, and that if I heard anything or located him, to send it further up the food chain. I didn't know this had any connection to Osborne until after the operation moved to New York."

"You know, it _is _illegal for you to operate within the US," Roberts piped up, and AJ looked at him. He lowered his eyes to the concrete.

"Roberts has a point. None of this should be happening."

"Even you have to admit that taking care of Osborne requires... bending the rules," Webb said, and AJ dumped him on the ground. The man was useless. "Admiral, I swear, I would never have allowed a civilian to be involved in this if I'd known."

"I think the CIA has gotten close enough to force Osborne to back off for now," Nico said, causing everyone to look at him. He was a mess, but he hadn't lost his touch. They hadn't heard him coming, and that was all the more impressive since he was injured and not alone. Santino had her shoes in her hand and was leaning on him heavily.

"We should get you both to a hospital—"

"No hospitals," Nico said. "You don't want to know the kinds of things he can do in one of them. As for you, Webb, couldn't you have asked one of them to teach you how to build a damn perimeter?"

"I didn't set this up—"

"Yeah, I would deny it, too. It's sloppy," Nico interrupted. "Someone give me a phone."

Mackenzie passed his phone over. Nico entered a number and made the call. "It's me. How many did we lose? Damn it. No. I'll handle the notifications myself. Save it. I'm fine."

He gave the phone back and turned to Webb. "I lost five of my people. You tell whoever had the brilliant idea to let that bastard live that I will find them and they will _wish _that Osborne dealt with them."

* * *

><p>"You know that you should be getting some kind of treatment, don't you?"<p>

"Now is not the time to annoy me. I get kind of touchy when someone tries to kill me, and I'm a trained assassin. Drop it," Nico muttered darkly, leaning against the back of the chair. He closed his eyes for a moment. The man was tired, should have been in a hospital, but he was stubborn. He wouldn't give in, not for a second.

Dani watched the commander walk away, shaking his head. She knew that the others were moving around in the other room. They were making plans. Nico should be a part of them, and at the same time, he _shouldn't. _This wasn't like him. He was hurt—and he was hurting. "The men, Nico, the ones that died—were they protecting my family?"

His eyes opened, and he looked at her. "You didn't get them killed."

She recognized the sound of his guilt talking. "You didn't, either."

"I hired them. They worked for me. I brought this into all of their lives. I put them in the position. They were there to protect people, and they had no idea the true nature of the threat. If I had made sure they were better prepared, then this would not have happened."

"Nico, the men who worked for you knew what they signed up for," she reminded him. He was clearly unconvinced, and she knew it would take a _lot _to convince him. "They work security. They give protection. They realize that—as unlikely as it might seem for professional football players, it could happen that they have to put their lives on the line. No, it's not the same as a firefighter or a cop or someone in the military, but it _is _still possible."

"Kindly stop rationalizing it for me, Doctor. The facts will not change no matter what they may or may not have realized. As good as the men were that I hired, none of them knew that a rogue former SEAL who worked most of his life as a covert operations _cleaner _was on their tail. They were not prepared for this."

"And if you let the guilt eat at you, what good are you going to be?" Dani demanded. She had to use another tactic, maybe the responsibility card. He felt responsible for their deaths, so he would feel responsible for the people he still had to protect, the people still in his employ. "You can't blame yourself for this. I like the idea of blaming it on the guy who set you up to be this guy Osborne's bait."

"How big is the bruise on your hip from where you landed? How much does it hurt?"

It hurt like hell, but she wasn't going to admit that right now. It would only fuel his guilt. "Is this another attempt to push me away? It's not going to work. Yes, I almost got blown up. Yes, my car is now a toasted wreck. I'm aware of both of those facts. I am _also _aware that if you hadn't been there, I would be _dead."_

"You would also not be a target if not for me. I don't see why you fail to accept that."

"Because you know better than this and because I won't let you drown in guilt. It's not fair to destroy yourself, and it's counterproductive," she said, shaking her head. She didn't like to see him like this—_wanted _to believe it was just the fact that he was hurt. "Being like this... it's not like you."

"This is me on a concussion, Doctor Santino. I can't move without getting nauseous, and I don't like sitting still."

"Why is it 'Danielle' when I'm getting blown up, but as soon as that's over, it's back to 'Doctor Santino?' I think if I'm going to get blown up because I'm _close _to you, I get to be called 'Danielle.' I'd prefer 'Dani,' but I'll take 'Danielle.'"

"Danielle," he began slowly, and she looked at him. "I think you may have to get me a bucket."

She started laughing. She couldn't stop herself. It was so unlike him, and yet so strangely... right. He didn't like to ask for help, and she knew that. That he'd asked for her help while using her name—it almost seemed like he had to be joking. Only he wasn't. She moved a bowl close to him, and he leaned over it. Nothing happened, and he sat back again. "I hate concussions. It's not the headache. It's the nausea."

"You know, you could have swelling in your brain, and it could kill you."

"And then Osborne would be so disappointed."

"Please don't joke about you dying. Or anyone dying. I'm not military. I do morbid humor, sometimes, I know I've said the words _kill me now. _I've threatened murder before. Of my children. Right now, though, I don't want to hear anything about _death. _I don't want to think about something happening to you or any more of your men or anyone in my family," she said. She stopped. "I don't mean we can or should ignore the men that died. I didn't mean that. I don't—I want to know what I can do to help them—their families."

"Nothing right now, other than staying alive."

"But if they were protecting my family or me at the restaurant—"

"You need to stay alive. Don't let Osborne win and get what he wants. It doesn't matter if they were protecting anyone you know or not. The main target was you. That was your car that was rigged to explode, not mine. I don't get to die until he's taken everything he can from me."

"Why you, though? You said he trained you, but... if he did—you chose to turn down what he taught you and it made him angry?"

"Something like that."

"I'll keep asking, you know that, right?"

"Yes. But as I said before, I was an assassin. Think about that before you ask. There are plenty of details that you don't want to know. I'm not an innocent man. What I do now is tame compared to what I was, and you don't even like what I do now. Magicians or killers, Doctor. You know which one of them I am."

* * *

><p>"Sir, I don't know that we can run any real kind of protection detail here. I don't want to ask Webb or the CIA for anything, but we're going to need a lot more people if we're really going to protect everyone connected to Careles. He's got a whole <em>football <em>team that Osborne could pick off. He already took out part of Careles' security staff. He almost got Careles and Santino at the restaurant," Harm began, shaking his head. He didn't know what they were going to do. "This is a lot bigger than we can handle."

"I'm surprised to hear that from you, Commander," the admiral said, an amused look on his face despite everything. "I didn't think we'd find a situation that you didn't feel capable of handling on your own."

"I guess even Harm knows his limits," Mac commented. She smiled. "I'm surprised, too."

Harm shrugged. "All right, laugh at my expense. It doesn't change the facts. The CIA picked the wrong person to use for bait, whatever Careles' skills might have been in the past, he has far too many connections here, too many ways for Osborne to cause collateral damage. It's not just the woman or her family anymore. What about your daughter?"

"I trust that Nico's people can handle keeping her safe. Would I rather do it myself? You bet your ass I would. She's my daughter. But I know that bringing her here would make things worse, so I'm going to keep my distance. The next step for us has got to be getting Doctor Santino somewhere where Osborne can't get to her."

"And severing all of my ties to the Pittman group, the Hawks football team, and anyone else I may have developed some kind of rapport with over the last twenty years," Careles said, walking into the room, Santino following after him. She guided him to the nearest chair and helped him sit. "You know, just because I am probably going to throw up and have no real sense of balance at the moment does not mean that I should be excluded from the planning session. Nothing wrong with my mind, just my body's equilibrium, and I do not mean that in the metaphysical sense."

"You're going to... quit when you've assigned people protection? Doesn't that mean that everyone will end up getting pulled and no one will be safe?" Bud asked, frowning.

"No. Xeno will keep the protection details as I assigned them. He will do everything—or almost everything as I would have. What I need—and I am fairly certain I have something that _will _make Marshall agree to this, not that agree is really the right term for what I have in mind—is for Pittman to fire me, publicly, and do what he does best. Ruin my chances at another job. The man can be... vindictive, and I trust that he would live up to his reputation."

"Okay, assuming that Pittman agrees to this, why would anyone believe it? Why would _Osborne _believe it? What could possibly be a big enough reason for Pittman to fire you, now, after twenty years of service? The threats from Osborne? You think they're enough that Pittman would do that? I'm not so sure Osborne would buy it."

"Osborne might if the reason Pittman's firing me is because I slept with his wife."

"What?"

Careles shrugged. "I knew her before she met him, and the feelings didn't just... disappear. Now, if someone would pass me that bowl...?"

"It's a damn good thing you were so good at being quiet that no one ever knew you were coming because one thing's for sure—while you can dish it out, you certainly can't handle it," the admiral muttered, shaking his head as he set the bowl next to Careles. Careles doubled over and lost his dinner, sitting back with a wince. "You should have a lot harder head than this."

"I think I've made improvement, actually. Last time you were around and this happened, I babbled in Italian. For two days."

"Lucky I was able to translate for you."

"Not so sure about that, AJ. I think you told the other men something about a goat that I never even said," Careles laughed a little before he threw up again. "You know, my mother and even my ex-wife used to say I was too thick headed to listen, but if that's true, why the hell does a concussion take me down every damn time?"

"Your brain is your most valuable asset, the advantages of your stealth aside," the admiral told him. "Never knew a man who thought as fast on his feet as you, and I don't think I ever will. The commander would like to be that man, but he's got a bit too much of an ego to make it."

"Sir—"

"You like him, AJ. Take it as a compliment, Rabb. It's probably the only one you'll ever get from him while you serve under him."

"That is not true, Nico."

"Oh, yes, it is. I seem to recall taking out half the outer perimeter, getting in and extracting the hostage, and returning to camp without one single shot being fired or warning alerted and having you tell me I was _late." _

"You were. You were supposed to be back five minutes before you showed up, and you were only supposed to scout the damn place, not do all the work yourself."

"There were no fatalities. I fail to see why one 'good job' was so hard for you to say."

Harm smiled. He had to admit that watching the admiral interact with Careles was... informative. They'd all seen a part of the admiral that they didn't usually see, and he was smiling a lot more. Careles was good for the man. Clearly. Even in the middle of Osborne's threats and people dying, the two of them shared a bond that no matter how much time had passed or distance was between them or crisis was happening, they could pull each other out of it. It must have been something, whatever mission had brought the two of them to this level. He wasn't sure he'd have that kind of relationship with the admiral if Chegwidden retired or he transferred out of his command. Harm didn't see himself resigning his commission, though.

"We're getting distracted. We need to—"

"You're going to sit and rest. That's an order, and don't even think of trying to argue that you're not under my command anymore. Someone recalled you at to active duty. That means that you _do _have orders again, and I still outrank you."

"I'll take another dishonorable discharge, then, because I am not letting anyone tell me what to do."


	8. Plans in Motion

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,517  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Should I get back to you on that one? If I don't keep it gen, then... Dani/Nico, Harm/Mac, and a possible bit of Harriet/Bud. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I owe part of this to a discussion with the evil twin a while back about the origin of Nico's name... Blame the Greek part on her, then. :P

* * *

><p><p>

**Plans in Motion**

AJ looked at the man he'd served with so long ago. "We need to move Doctor Santino."

"Great. So now it's time for me to be shoved to the side, hidden in some hole, and left to wait until this is all over," she said, putting a hand to her head. "I don't want to be a problem. I don't want to make one. I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain, and I keep thinking about what I could be doing to make this... better or help in anyway, but short of talking to the families of the men that died, I don't know what skills I could _hope _to contribute. I can't defend myself, not that well, and I should have known that my car wasn't safe, but I went for it anyway. Almost got myself killed. Almost got Nico killed."

"Don't let the concussion fool you. I'm nowhere _near _dead," Nico muttered. "Pittman has a very prestigious opening tomorrow. If he is informed of the past indiscretion between me and his wife at that time, his reaction will be public and predictable. It should be enough, especially since Marshall was never good at hiding his thoughts."

"Wait, don't you owe your life to Pittman?" Santino asked, frowning. AJ had to wonder just how much Nico had told her. It seemed more and more clear that Osborne's choice of target was less random than he wanted to believe that it was. "How does that fit with a man who can't hide his thoughts? That's not really the making of a good military officer, is it? A SEAL?"

"I never said Marshall was a SEAL," Nico said, and then he doubled over for a completely different reason. _"That _is the funniest thing I've heard in a long time."

"Sure as hell wouldn't have made it in any unit _I _commanded," Chegwidden agreed. Pittman a SEAL. It was a good laugh. "We've got that part settled. It'll be handled tomorrow, and you'll be back on your feet. Now, you want to talk about the location you were planning on taking Santino?"

"Need to change the plans. Can't be a Pittman holding. Need to dig deeper, find something that he can't connect to any of us. No, Rabb, don't bother to offer. Osborne would be watching your family's assets as well. I have resources that I can use that _nessuno sa—Maledizione. _I'm doing it again. No goat stories this time, AJ. And if you let one of them draw on me like you did when Case hit me with that tree branch, I will leave you short one lawyer, are we clear?"

AJ wanted to laugh. "Crystal, Nico. Get some sleep."

Nico's eyes closed. Santino looked at him worriedly, reaching out a hand toward him. She almost pulled it back, but then she ran her fingers through his hair a little, shaking her head as she did. "I swear, I never thought I'd see him sleep. He's always showing up in the middle of the night or calling me at any weird hour. He always seems to be working."

"There used to be a few pools on his sleeping habits. Some of the men didn't think he slept at all. Even when they bunked with him, they never thought he was asleep. He is a light sleeper, light as hell unless he's concussed. Made it seem like he just closed his eyes, never slept, just looked like it."

She frowned, looking at Nico. "He is asleep now, though, right?"

"Hard to say," AJ admitted. Nico had gone out rather fast, but that didn't necessarily mean he wasn't out. He fell hard when he had a concussion. "He'd probably still be talking in Italian, though, if he was awake."

"I had no idea he was fluent."

"Spoke it better than a native raised in Italy, my ex-wife said," AJ remembered with a smile.

_Watching his wife kiss the young SEAL's cheeks like she'd known him all her life, AJ shook his head. "Careles, am I going to have keep you away from my wife?"_

"_A concussion would do it, sir."_

"_I'll keep that in mind, though I would have expected an immediate 'no, sir.'"_

_Careles gave him a slight smile, but he never gave him that "no, sir."_

"Sir, if Careles is going to move Doctor Santino—we need a location to take her to," Rabb began. "And... my recommendation would be that wherever we take her we should leave him, at least until he recovers from the concussion."

While in some ways, Rabb might have had a good thought there, he didn't have any idea what he was talking about when it came to Nico Careles. "You know, Commander, you don't want to piss him off any more than you do me. Santino is as safe as we can make her, for now. Nico has a place he'll take her. What I want to know is what we're going to do about Osborne and the damn CIA."

Mackenzie took a breath. "I think that we may have to talk to Webb again. Before anyone jumps down my throat, I don't mean that we're going to cooperate with him. I'm just saying we should see if it's possible to get more information about Osborne and who would have put him back in play. That person has a lot to lose—and Osborne might not even know who that is. If he doesn't, letting him know could take the focus of you and Mr. Careles."

"Call Webb. He claims not to like what his agency is doing, so he can damn well start fixing it."

* * *

><p><em>The darkness surrounded him, the leaves moving in the trees around him. The wind was trying to obscure things, trying to make the noises harder to pinpoint. He could only be certain of the tree that was at his back, and that vulnerability was hard to take. He was alone, and he knew that. He'd told them to go. They hadn't wanted to do it, but they had to clear the way, and he was a liability. He would get them all killed if they tried to save him.<em>

_A branch snapped. He heard something coming closer. Yes, it was coming—right for him. He knew it was not the team returning. The sound was not right—not enough people. One._

_Just one. That was all it ever took, really._

Nico jerked awake, head pounding. He sat back, waiting for it to pass. Nothing looked right—the darkness didn't want to leave and there were odd shapes and colors within the blackness. It was an old fear, old dream, and he knew it would fade eventually. It always did. "Where am I?"

"Easy, Nico. You're in New York. No jungle here."

"I haven't been there in years," Nico muttered, sitting up and feeling around to get his bearings. Chegwidden's voice didn't help in letting go of the memories. It brought back that time as well, especially without sight. Nico knew that the blindness was temporary. It always lingered after the memories. All in his head. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That was what they called it now, though he'd had it in control for years, had been as over it as was possible before Osborne proved to be among the living.

"Seems to me you got a pretty bad knock on the head back then, too."

It should have killed him then. It nearly did, nearly left Nico permanently blind. "How long was I out?"

"Only a couple hours. Couldn't risk you going into a coma."

"And the goat?"

"Only one that anyone here knows about is the one that serves as Annapolis' mascot. You think you can manage to stand up at this point? I'm assuming you have no intention of telling anyone where you plan on going until you get there," Chegwidden said, and Nico felt a hand on his shoulder. "Or should we wait a bit longer?"

"I don't think we should put it off, if that's what you're wondering. Still, arranging for transportation that hopefully cannot be tracked will take a while as well. I need a phone. A change of clothes for both me and the doctor and a bottle of over the counter painkillers."

"How bad is the arm?"

"Nothing dislocated, broken, or sprained," Nico reported, running a hand over the arm. He still couldn't see anything, but he could sense the eyes upon him. Based on that, he figured that Santino and Roberts were still in the room with the admiral. Rabb and Mackenzie were gone. "The stiffness is just bruising from the metal that hit me—the car door, I believe? It doesn't matter. It will pass."

"You sure you're okay, Nico?" Santino asked, with that worried tone in her voice. "You seem to be having some trouble... focusing your eyes."

"I'm fine," Nico insisted, pushing himself to his feet. His balance was back, but the lack of sight was still an issue. "Commander Rabb and Major Mackenzie have gone to see Webb?"

He could hear the nod in Chegwidden's words. "Trying to get some information on the man who set this up. Unfortunately, Webb is one of few people we can ask."

"That's not true, AJ. You could have asked someone else."

"I try to avoid owing that man any favors, and you know better than I do the cost of working with him," Chegwidden said, touching Nico's arm. "We've got transportation handled. You can give me directions along the way."

"I can't see. Again."

"Nico, if you can't see, then we _do _need to get you checked out by a hospital. You need to have your head looked at, make sure there's no bleeding in your brain."

"Actually, I'm afraid this falls more under your area of expertise, Doctor Santino. This isn't... This is a familiar symptom. It seems to come up with any concussion I get, no matter how mild, ever since an injury many, many years ago," Nico explained. "The specialist I saw told me that it's not physical. He said that it was PTSD."

"Oh," she said quietly. He heard her moving toward him. "Well, you know, I specialize in _behavioral _therapy, not trauma. I don't have the training that is really necessary to handle PTSD. I would like to help, though, if I can. I am trained in hypnosis, and that could help."

He shook his head. Not as much pain, and no dizziness. The concussion was improving. That meant that this was definitely a psychosomatic blindness. "It will pass, and I don't need a therapist. Just someone to get me to the car."

* * *

><p>"Where are we going? Or... am I not allowed to ask that? I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, to be honest," Bud began, looking across the car to the doctor and then at the two men in the front seat. The admiral was driving, and Careles was in the passenger seat, still looking more dead than alive. Occasionally, he said something in Italian, and the admiral would say something back. They were almost in their own world, using that language. "We've been driving for a while now, and I guess I thought we'd be there or change cars or something by now."<p>

"Are you worried that Nico is leading us to the wrong spot, Lieutenant?"

"Uh... No, sir, just... curious."

Careles laughed a bit bitterly. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"You spoke English again."

"I am fluent in both. English is technically my native language," Careles said with a slight shrug. "I was raised in a bilingual household—trilingual if you count my mother, who was Greek. She spoke Italian to my father, though, always yelled at him to shut up in that special way of hers."

"I didn't know your mother was Greek."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Doctor."

"True, but... I think this is the first time you've mentioned your mother other than saying she wasn't like me," Santino agreed. She shrugged. "So I'm curious. It happens. A lot, in fact, with me."

Careles' lips curved into a slight smile. Bud found himself wishing that Harriet was here. He was so bad at these things—these _signals _in particular—and he couldn't help but think that he was probably wrong about what he was seeing, but then again... He didn't know. He was bad at this. Still, if anyone asked him, he would say that he saw something there, between Careles and Santino. Bud wanted to ask the admiral about it. He had a feeling that Osborne's choice of Santino might not be as random as Careles wanted to think it was.

But Bud was probably wrong about that.

"You have more questions, then, Doctor?"

"Why are we back to Doctor? I thought we'd finally settled on Danielle," Santino said, and Careles looked back like he knew where she was sitting even though Bud thought he was still dealing with that psychosomatic blindness. "Or is that only for when you're telling me you're a killer, saving me from a car bomb, and about to throw up?"

He laughed. "No, but when you get nosy, I find it best to use 'Doctor.'"

"Why?"

"Because it distracts you."

Santino smiled. "Oh, so that's the game we're playing. Fine. But you don't win. Your mother was Greek, your father was Italian, and... your full name is either Nikolas or Nikolai, right? Not Nicolo. No, it's... Greek, isn't it?"

"The name is Nico," Careles said, shaking his head. "Why must everyone assume that it is a diminutive form of something else?"

"Because it is, isn't it, sir?" Bud asked, and Careles turned toward him. "Well, I went to find your records. I did look under the name you gave the commander first. Then I checked every possible name that yours could have been short for. Those records would have used the full name even if you haven't gone by it since you were born."

"Since I was ten, but thank you for that anyway, Mr. Roberts," Careles grumbled and the admiral even laughed as Santino smiled smugly. "Since this is the best way to avoid prolonging the discussion—it's Nikolai. No one has used it in years, and I don't remember most of the Greek I used to know."

"My ex-wife would be so disappointed right now, Nico."

Careles laughed. "But your daughter still loves me."

"You helped her with your connections to the New York fashion world, and while I'd like to be angry about that, it means she comes to the states more, and I can see her more often," Chegwidden said, shaking his head a little.

"Did you have to do that? Bad enough Santino has personal details, but now I won't hear the end of being 'connected' to the fashion world."

"Connected as in designer discounts?" Santino immediately asked. "Because if you have them and you haven't been sharing, Nico, I think we're going to have to talk about this."

Careles shook his head, resolutely turning to the window. "If I told you they were mob connections, would you leave it alone?"

"What?"


	9. What to Believe

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,987  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I thought about trying for gen, and um... no, I'm not going to be able to stick to that. I like Harriet/Bud and Dani/Nico too much for that. Plus, the story didn't feel right without the Dani/Nico element, and I'm rather of the belief that Bud isn't Bud without his feelings for Harriet.

* * *

><p><strong>What to Believe<strong>

"I see you haven't lost any of your ability to strategize, either," AJ observed, looking around the safe house Nico had arranged. The place had all the necessary requirements of a fortress, though AJ doubted that the woman who would be staying there was even aware of that. On the inside, the house was more comfortable than most. The television and books should help keep her somewhat distracted even while the rest of the world was more or less cut off. She was a smart, independent woman, though, and that wasn't going to be enough, not for long. Nico would have a hard time keeping Santino safe—not because she wasn't smart, but because she was stubborn.

AJ couldn't help remembering the judge. She'd been a fine, feisty woman, not all that different from Santino, and that had led her to him that night. She'd refused to be pushed away, refused to let him do it, even for her own safety. He wished she'd listened.

If not that, then he—he would never forgive himself for not protecting her better.

Nico didn't need to know that kind of pain, that all consuming guilt. He had enough as it was with the men that Osborne had killed—and he even took on the judge's death as one of his, as a part of his failure to kill Osborne years ago.

"This isn't what I think it should be, but it will have to be enough," Nico said quietly, blinking a few times. "It is starting to clear, but not fast enough for my liking. I would prefer to accelerate things. This is not a game that should continue for very long. Too many people have already died."

"I agree, but you know that even if you don't want to admit to limits, you're in no state to confront Osborne."

"Or I'm in the perfect state," Nico disagreed. AJ gave him a look, then remembered that the other man couldn't currently see it. "Physically, yes, this is how he'd prefer to confront me. The man was never about playing fair, and he knows better than to let me come for him. Even he would not see me coming, and that would go against his plans. He wants me to suffer, not succeed in killing him. Psychologically, though, I'm nowhere near where he wants me to be."

"You won't be until he can hurt someone you care about."

"There is no one," Nico said, shaking his head. "I have been careful about that, have kept people at a distance for many years. Even Gabriella—and her daughter—are not as close to me as they could have been."

"Maybe there are people who are closer to you than you think."

"Marcie? She has formed an attachment, but I spoke to the general. She understands the risk, and her sons are going to stick close to their sister. I couldn't ask for better protection for the girl."

"I'm not talking about her, Nico," AJ said, thinking that his friend was blind in more ways than one. He shook his head. It could be stubbornness, too, but if Nico had been the one to see him interacting with the good doctor, he would think differently. "Santino was no random choice."

Nico turned toward him, shaking his head. "No, she was, and that is the way it has to stay."

Chegwidden took a breath. He knew better than anyone the cost, but he also knew that it wasn't just going to go away, even if Nico tried to deny it. "Osborne already saw it, and if he wants you to suffer, if going after the woman I loved was no accident, he's not going to stop. You have to be prepared for this possibility."

Nico nodded. "I am aware, yes. I have also been considering another possibility."

"What?"

"That I am not the target at all."

Well, that was different. AJ folded his arms over his chest and studied the other man carefully. "What are you thinking, then?"

"Osborne had plenty of opportunity to come after me, if that was what he wanted. It can't possibly be that simple," Nico said, shaking his head. He crossed over to the couch, bumping into it before he sat down. "This is too simple a game for him. Even if he's going after the people in my life, he also had plenty of time to do that. If that was all it was, then he could have done it years ago. Osborne was not that patient of a man. Think of how he went from a humiliation in your office to attempts to kill you and blame it on a ghost. No, I think this game is far more than what it seems."

"That sure as hell pisses me off. What it seems to be is you being set up as bait for Osborne and hung out to dry. Your people are already causalities of this game, remember?" AJ shook his head. "You tell me what you think this is."

"Who are you, AJ?"

"You know who I am."

Nico chuckled. "Yes, I do. I mean your title and position. Why did the judge die and no one else close to you? Because that would bring the US Navy and Marine Corps down on his head—you're the head of the Judge Advocate General, remember? Lieutenant Commander Rabb, Major Mackenzie, Lieutenant Roberts—they're off limits because of their commissions, because while they may not be where you are yet—Rabb may be one day or even Mackenzie—they still hold the threat of the organization they're a part of. Go after too many of them to get to you, and Osborne becomes as hunted as a terrorist hidden in the deserts of Afghanistan."

"You think a man like Osborne is afraid of NCIS, of the Navy and the Marine Corps? I highly doubt that."

"Oh, I don't think he is, but if it was just about me, this would have been over a long time ago."

* * *

><p>"So... Not so bad, right, ma'am? Er, Doctor? Er... ma'am?" Bud asked, and Dani looked over at the young man, giving him a sympathetic smile. She knew that he was in over his head, and she felt a bit sorry for him. He didn't really belong here, and he was aware that she didn't <em>want <em>to be here. It was making him even more nervous.

"Relax. Or... At ease, Lieutenant," she said, sighing as she left the window. It wasn't much of a view, but that was kind of the point, wasn't it? She was just supposed to be here so that she was out of harm's way. She needed to be safe, and someone as paranoid as Nico was more likely to keep her in a place that had no windows at all because they were risky. She knew that this place was a bit of a compromise for him, and she was even a little grateful for that. "Let's make it simple. Call me Dani."

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, Dani," Bud said with a bit of a blush. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Really. I'm sure that you'll get used to it eventually," Dani assured him. "In the meantime, relax. You don't have to worry with me. I can take anything that's been thrown at me and throw it right back, trust me. I've got two kids and a patient named Terrence King. Compared to them, you're easy."

He gave her a bit of a smile. "Ma'am—I mean, Dani. If you don't mind my asking... Well, I guess I keep thinking that... Never mind. That's nothing. I'm wrong about that. I'm always wrong about that. I guess I'm just kind of thinking too much. I'd ask Harriet about it, but I—Oh, no. I haven't talked to Harriet since before we left. She's going to be so angry! Why did I forget?"

"I'm sure that she'll understand if you explain what you're in the middle of. This is a bit of an extreme circumstance, after all."

"Not exactly. Not compared to some of the things that we've been through."

"Oh?" Dani asked, curious. Exactly what was so dangerous about being a military lawyer? He had mentioned that the commander did some kind of protection detail, but did they really lead that dangerous of lives? "Like what?"

"I'm not really sure what I can tell you, ma—Dani," he said. "Some of it is classified. Some of it isn't. And I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you."

"Probably it would be best to say nothing at all, Lieutenant," Nico said as he came into the room. "However, given the doctor's ability to get to information that very few people want to share, that's not really an option."

"I don't know, Nico," Dani began, looking over at him. He seemed to be getting better. His hand touched the wall momentarily, but other than that, she never would have known that he was still struggling a bit to see. "You keep your secrets pretty well."

"You got more than most do from me already, and you have not known me for very long."

She smiled a bit smugly. She kind of liked that idea. He didn't share much with anyone, but she got to have tiny morsels, these small, random pieces of a very complex puzzle. She would put them together little by little, just like she did with anyone else—patient or friend. "So, what's the news you came to deliver? You are here to make some kind of announcement and leave, right?"

He nodded. "It's almost time for Marshall's press conference. I have to be there. You and the lieutenant will stay here, but you might just find it on television."

"You sure you want to do this?" Dani couldn't help asking. She knew that Nico didn't see it like she did—that much had been clear for a long time—but he was already hurt, and he was about to put himself in harm's way again. Granted, it was supposed to be something that got him out of his connection to Pittman and moved their stupid plan forward. "You do realize that he's bound to hurt you and you haven't gotten over your last concussion."

"Marshall doesn't have press conferences often—at least not ones that he attends. It needs to be now. It cannot wait. Don't worry. The admiral will be there if anything goes wrong."

"Time to move out, Nico."

He looked back at the door and gave the other man a nod. "Yes, sir."

"Now that's something I didn't think I'd hear from you," Dani began, and Nico gave her a slight smile as he got to his feet. "You really aren't the type that takes orders."

"Hell, half the time, he didn't even need them," Chegwidden said. "Lieutenant, we are leaving the doctor in your hands. I trust you can make sure she stays safe."

Roberts gulped, looking at his boss in shock. He just about swallowed his tongue trying to choke out a response. "Uh... sir... I don't—I'm not—I think that I'm a bit unworthy of this assignment. I don't know that I can handle it."

"Relax, Roberts," Nico said. "You're just the man in the room with her. There are others outside, and I don't expect anyone to get past them. If they should, though, the doctor's life is in your hands—and you will answer to me."

"And me."

"Yes, sir."

"Both of you stop terrorizing him," Dani ordered. She touched Roberts' arm. "Don't let them scare you. If Xeno is any kind of judge of the type of men Nico hires, no one is going to get through to us. And I think a man with your training will rise to the occasion if it comes to that."

"Thank you, Dani."

She smiled back at him and gave Nico a pointed look. Nico shrugged. Chegwidden looked at him. "Your staff will never be the same after this, AJ."

"I'm starting to see that, Nico. And I blame you."

"This the same kind of blame as that village or are we talking more like Italy?"

"That remains to be seen, Lieutenant."

Dani watched them walk away, bickering with each other, and she had to shake her head with a smile. Even though there were definite drawbacks to most of this, seeing that side of Nico almost made all of it worth it.

She looked over at Roberts. "Bud, it's okay, you can breathe now."

He forced a smile. "Sorry. I'm still... adjusting. And I forgot to ask them if I could use the phone. I want to call Harriet, but I don't want to risk your safety."

He did take his responsibility seriously. She smiled at that. "Thank you. That proves that I'm in good hands. And we'll make sure you have a chance to talk to Harriet today. I promise. If I have to track Xeno down myself, we'll get you that call."

* * *

><p>"I am getting kind of sick of seeing you two."<p>

"That's funny. I kind of thought you had a thing for Mac," Harm said, and she gave him a look as Webb glared at him. He would have shrugged, but this really wasn't the time for jokes. The admiral's friend was in bad shape, and they needed answers before someone else got hurt. This had to stop somewhere, and Harm had to admit, their current plan sucked. Careles was probably right in that it was what they had to do, but Harm would have liked a bit more than pushing away the man's friends and making him a more obvious target.

"I'm going to ignore that and ask you what you want now," Webb said, reluctantly letting them into his hotel room. "If you've come to throw more accusations at me or berate me for my so-called failure, you can save it. I've got more important things to do."

"We're not here for that," Mac began, stepping into the role of peacemaker. "We all want to catch Osborne and make sure that he actually pays for what he's done this time. That means—and I'm not going to use that nasty word cooperation, but as close to it as we come. We need information, and you need us—or at least you need Careles since he's the one that got set up as bait."

Webb sighed. "I did some digging last night after I left the restaurant. I'm still not nearly where I need to be to find out who let Osborne live or who let him go. I don't even have an idea who is trying to bring him back in. This is all going on levels way above my clearance level. I got fed the same story you did—about Careles being the one we had to watch."

Harm took the nearest chair. "I'm not so sure they're wrong about that. The admiral's friend is a very dangerous man. It might not look like it given what he's been doing for the past twenty years, but he's not someone you want to cross."

"Please. Don't tell me you're intimidated by this man," Webb scoffed, shaking his head. He looked from Harm to Mac. "You're kidding, right? You buy into that myth now? Even knowing that it's a myth?"

"What I know is that the admiral has a healthy dose of respect for what the man can do—and he's letting Careles handle most of it. Think about that for a minute, Webb. The man was _under _the admiral's command, but Chegwidden considers him a friend. He trusts and respects him enough to let him run this entire operation while injured. That says a hell of a lot to me. If Chegwidden has that much faith in him, then I'm going to say that myth isn't as much of a myth as we first thought when we found out that part of it was a lie."

Webb went to his desk and picked up a folder, handing it to Mac. She raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

"The myth."

She started flipping through the pages. Harm watched her, curious. He wanted a look at that file. Hell, he'd wanted to see those records since Careles walked into JAG. "Hmm. When the admiral led the team, they were mainly deployed for search and rescue missions. Almost a hundred percent recovery—and if they didn't get the people back alive, they got the bodies. That's impressive enough."

"Or faked." Webb shrugged. "Keep reading."

"Read what?" Mac countered. "Most of this is blacked out. I thought you had clearance here, Webb. There's almost nothing here except... target neutralized. Over and over."

"The man did say he was an assassin," Harm reminded her. That was proof, but they'd known it was true already. Careles hadn't lied about that. The admiral had told them the same thing.

"A damn good one. He hit what he went after."

"Yeah, and with what looks like incredible success," Mac said, turning more of the pages. "The ones that aren't blacked out are still believed to be inside jobs—at least these four here. They're well-known assassinations. Everyone thinks they were carried out by someone trusted in the organizations they were a part of—the in-fighting afterward rendered half of these groups harmless to anyone else. They were too busy killing themselves."

"These could just have been collected and put in his file to create the legend they wanted you to have," Harm began, and Mac shrugged slightly. He couldn't tell if the details in the file were exaggerated or not, but he did still want to see them.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Webb said. "The file suggests he'll do exactly what he threatened to do."

"You know what the worst part of that is?" Harm asked, and they both looked at him. "When Careles came into my office, he was looking for a way out. So that he didn't have to kill again."

"And you believe that?"


	10. In Front of the Crowd

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,513  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I had to throw that one question in there... It was something Nico needed for manipulation...

* * *

><p><strong>In Front of the Crowd<strong>

"How are the eyes?" AJ asked, trying to take his mind off being stuck in the gridlock that was city traffic. It was always like this, but with a man out there waiting to kill them, it was even harder to be patient with it.

"There's nothing wrong with them."

"Funny, but you know that's not what I meant," AJ said, looking over at Nico. The other man was facing the window, and some might believe that he was watching the scenery go by, but Chegwidden knew better. "Can you see or not?"

"Mostly. You don't need to worry about me. I can handle what I need to do."

AJ shook his head. Stubborn bastard. "In case you missed, half the reason this is going down is because people care about you—and you care about them. You couldn't cut yourself off forever, Nico. It doesn't work that way. The people you care about are always going to be the ones that pay the price in some way, but if you think that pushing them all away is going to make them hurt any less, it won't. It doesn't even protect you. Lose sight of what you're fighting for and you lose it all."

"If we're going to discuss the value of honor and nobility and even basic humanity, that was a lesson I screwed up years ago," Nico muttered. He shook his head. "You know where I came from, what I went into, and what I am now. This isn't redemption I've been working on for the past twenty years. I have no real expectation of that. I know what I am and what I've done, and I can't take that back."

"I never said that was what you were doing," Chegwidden disagreed. He didn't have any illusions about Nico completely reforming himself. The man would always be more comfortable in the gray areas of life, would always insist that he was the bad guy even when he wasn't really one or the other. "Hell, no one seeks redemption around Marshall Pittman. I think twenty years is more than enough time to have paid that debt back—not that I feel you should have owed the bastard that in the first place."

"AJ, please don't ruin things by punching Pittman in the face."

Chegwidden had to laugh. He couldn't make any promises. He'd like to see Pittman get what had been coming to him, and it pissed him off that Osborne was forcing them to let Nico take the blame again. Granted, what he'd done with Marshall's wife might not have been his best moment, but the man had given him more years of dedicated service than AJ suspected his wife had ever been faithful, and it was well-known that Pittman had a wandering eye.

"How long do you think you'll have to wait before you tell him about you and Gabriella?"

"I'm not planning on drawing this thing out. I have no desire to make this worse than it is. All we want here is to set the next phase in motion. That means making it appear that I am isolated. Osborne will come for me if he sees me weakened, but you have a valid point about the doctor. He won't like that he can't get to her before he comes for me."

AJ nodded, turning the corner. He hated driving in the city; though he had to say, he hated cab drivers even more. "You think it might be in her best interests to stage something where he thinks he can get to her—or that he has? He knows she survived the car bomb attempt already."

Nico nodded. "He knows. And he'd spot anything at this point. Either he kills her or he can't get anywhere near her. There is no middle ground."

AJ didn't like that thought very much. He didn't doubt it, but he'd like to have a better way of protecting the woman that Nico cared about. She was too much like the judge—and if there was one thing Chegwidden refused to see happen again, it was history repeating itself. Santino was not going to die at Osborne's hands. They were going to make sure of that. Osborne had better not get to anyone else. If he killed one more person...

"There. Marshall should be up at the front there. Circle around and park. We can walk the rest of the way."

"Parking in New York City? Are you joking?"

"Doesn't your job come with _any _perks, AJ? What's the point of being the head of the Judge Advocate General if you don't even get special parking privileges?" Nico teased, and AJ shook his head. He had to figure that the other man tended to park wherever he wanted and pay the tickets off with Pittman's money. It made sense, and Pittman had the money to cover it. It wasn't much of a revenge, but it was something.

Chegwidden managed to find a spot and stopped the car. "You sure you're okay for the crowd?"

Nico reached for the door handle. "Yes, I'm fine. It's more or less gone now—though it will probably come back the minute Marshall reacts to what I have to tell him."

"Be careful."

"This is me, remember?"

"I repeat, Lieutenant: Be careful."

* * *

><p>Nico walked away from Chegwidden's rental, carefully making his way through the crowd. Pittman had certainly managed to create an occasion this time, hadn't he? He did enjoy making a scene—he always had, though in recent years, he'd taken to making his scenes in other public formats—by crazy stunts in the media or social networks. This was him as he had been more like twenty years ago. The irony of that was not lost on Nico as he made his way past the outer perimeter.<p>

These people had been paid to gather here. They weren't that excited for what Pittman had gathered them here for, but they had come and were pretending to be. There was clearly some kind of compensation involved. Nico had to wonder what they'd been promised. Money? Time on television? Both, perhaps. Or they could even be employees of the Pittman Group.

He shook his head as he got closer. He had to stop for a moment, temporarily losing his balance. He had taken the precaution of remaining close to the wall, and he used it to gather himself together again. This should pass quickly. He'd thought most of the concussion's symptoms were already gone, but apparently having the blindness lifted brought back some of the other ones, to a lesser degree. Either that, or this was just another part of his PTSD.

"Nico? Nico, are you all right?"

He grimaced. Well, that was almost perfect timing, wasn't it? He hadn't planned on her presence, though it would make this a bit easier in some ways—and a lot worse in others. "Gabriella."

"I've always liked that you called me that. Your own twist on my name," she said, smiling at him. Then she sighed. "You look terrible. What happened?"

"You didn't hear anything?"

"Since when does Marshall tell me anything? You tell me more than he does, and you may as well be stone sometimes," she went on, glancing toward the podium. "I can't believe that man. I don't know how he expects to pull it off."

"You make it sound like he's running for office."

"Oh, he'd like to, but the man has too much of a past for that," she muttered, rolling her eyes. That was something Nico already knew. Pittman liked control. He did it with his companies, but he'd do it in the government if he could. "You didn't answer me. What happened to you?"

"Car bomb."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not," Nico said, forcing himself away from the wall. "I am not in the mood to talk about this. I need to speak to Marshall and end this finally."

"End what?" she asked, then her eyes got wide. "Nico, are you leaving him? Really? After all this time? Because—"

"I know you've been talking to a divorce lawyer. I'm not interested," he cut her off quickly. He had a feeling that Osborne was around. Not close enough to set off that other sense of his, but Nico knew he was here. Close. That much was almost guaranteed. The man was waiting. He was watching. Nico hated that feeling. He hated this sensation. He could not stand it. It made him lose focus. He was tense, edgy, too paranoid.

"I'm not doing it for you."

"It's a good thing," Nico informed her coldly. "Whatever we had was over a long time ago. We both recognize that and should not pretend otherwise. The truth is simple enough, and it is best to leave it alone."

"You can be an extremely cold bastard sometimes, Nico. Worse than Marshall."

"I always have been. You just like to forget that," Nico said almost under his breath as he cut through the crowd. If he wasn't who he was, he would never have been involved with her in the first place. He had allowed himself some false comfort in the belief that it was his feelings for her that led him back to her, but he knew now that was just a lie. It was not his feelings toward her but toward Marshall that did it. Nico had hated the man for years, chafed under the umbrage of the debt that he owed the other man, and he had done things—small ones, petty ones—over the years to get back at Pittman even as he supposedly fulfilled his obligation to him. Gabriella was only one of them. The biggest one—but then Marshall had stopped caring about her years ago. It would only anger him because his wife was a possession, and the man had never been good at sharing his toys.

"You could be gentle. Kind. Loving, even."

He gave her a look. "I never knew you were that big of a fool. What is it you want? Dirty laundry for the divorce? I am not taking sides in this thing. I want no part of it. I'm done. Now leave me alone."

"Was it all a lie, then?"

"I'll ask you the same thing," he countered, turning back to her. "Is she mine? Was she _ever _mine? I don't think so. I watched out for her like she was, but you tried to manipulate me with her. Don't play the wounded saint now. It never became you. You used me, and I used you, and that's where it ends."

"You're going to tell him, aren't you? Nico, don't be an idiot."

"Why? So he can't take as much from you in the divorce? This is a lot bigger than you and me, and it has to be done. You won't talk me out of it so you may as well stop talking. Now," he told her, heading up the podium stairs.

Marshall turned from talking to his assistant. "Nico. I was starting to worry about you. I heard about the bombing but never heard from you. Didn't figure they'd killed you, but you never called, either."

"Clearly I'm alive."

"And you've had a run in with the wife. I believe this is our final public appearance together. She's leaving me."

"That's for your lawyers to handle."

Pittman nodded. "We should talk, though. Let me get this thing underway, and after the fanfare has started, you can tell me whatever it is you dragged yourself here to say. You should be resting. It actually shows this time. Is that doctor all right? I believe she's become quite an asset to the team, and I would hate to lose a valuable member of the organization."

"And the five men who died are... expendable?"

"Don't get sanctimonious on me now, Nico. You've played dirty all your life. Your hands aren't going to wash clean now. You can't blame those deaths on me."

Nico glared at the other man. "Even the mob has some sense of honor. Twisted, perhaps, but nothing like yours. I've killed better men than you at the request of governments. You continue to skate by for reasons that I can't fathom."

"It must have disappointed you, going from one killing family to another."

"No more than it would disappoint you to know that Juliette isn't your daughter."

Pittman stopped short of the podium, turning around. "Exactly what are you saying, Nico? Is that tramp yours? Did you sleep with my wife?"

Nico's eyes scanned the crowd quickly. He found Chegwidden with relative ease—he would have to remind the man that the shaved head was rather a giveaway—and then Nico swallowed hard. Osborne. Now he could feel the man watching him. He was in the crowd. This was the time to do it, to do what he'd come to do. Sever all ties to the Pittman Group and Pittman in particular. Gabriella showing up was an added bonus.

A part of him was tempted to let Osborne go after either one of them, but he couldn't do that. His own personal feelings aside, neither of them really deserved that, and it would end with more innocents killed as Osborne went through their security details to get to them.

"Whatever he told you is a lie, Marshall. Nico and I were never involved."

Nico looked over at Gabriella. She was really going to try that? Now? That was dumb. It was the least strategic move that she could have made right now. He didn't understand it, but maybe she was desperate enough to think it would help.

"There is a simple way to get the answers. Check her paternity. The fact that she's an addict lends itself toward proof. You know I'm an alcoholic. Then again, so is the mother. It's just that the mother never even tried to get sober."

"Go to hell, Nico. I didn't—She's _not _yours. She was always Marshall's."

"I don't think he believes that right now."

"You son of a bitch," Marshall said, shaking his head. "And you, Gabby. I should have known."

Nico would have to go to Juliette next. The fall out from this would be ugly, and he owed her an explanation, even if he wasn't her father. She didn't deserve to find out like this, either. He could only hope that she didn't see the broadcast. He should have thought of her sooner.

"You can't really act all offended, Marshall. You strayed long before she did."

"But I didn't pretend that another woman's child was hers, now did I?"

"You never even deserved Juliette. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being and you never were a father to her. You shoved money at someone and told them to 'deal' with her. I've been more of a father to her over the years—even if I'm not her biological father. I took care of her," Nico said, and then smiled grimly as he added, "oh, _and _your wife."

That last bit was just what he needed to push Pittman over the edge.


	11. More Maneuvers

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,514  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: It was done before midnight. Then my internet got stupid, and I couldn't post before midnight. *grumble*

* * *

><p><strong>More Maneuvers<strong>

"How are the eyes now?"

"About as bad as they were before," Nico muttered as AJ helped him up off the ground. His hand instinctively went to his shoulder, and it was clear that it was bothering him as much as his head was. Chegwidden nearly went after Pittman himself. He would have liked to, but he knew that this was a part of the mission—something they _had _to do. It would set the next part in motion, and they needed this plan—and probably a hell of a lot more—to make sure that Osborne didn't get to anyone else. "Did you see him?"

"Osborne's here?"

"Was. Might not be there now," Nico said, putting a hand to his head and futilely scanning the crowd. AJ didn't see anything, but then again, he didn't expect to. Osborne would make sure he was out of sight. He wanted to taunt and torment his prey, wanted to play mind games. "No, no... I think he's gone. We need to move."

"You're not doing so hot, Lieutenant. Thought I told you to be careful."

"It was me we were talking about," Nico reminded him. AJ shook his head. The man was insane—in the best of ways. They'd made one hell of a mistake pulling in this one from the cold. If Nico had stayed down the path they'd wanted for him, he would have ended up worse than Osborne with double the skill. Chegwidden had learned to respect the younger man's skill even before Careles saved his life. They were even, though, because AJ had also had to haul his ass out of the fire.

"Yeah, it was," AJ nodded. They'd known this was coming, and it had to be done, but it didn't make it any easier—or in Nico's case, didn't make it hurt any less. The man would be feeling that impact for the next few days at least. "You need to realize that it doesn't always have to be you working alone. You were assigned to a SEAL _team _for a reason, after all."

"I did better work as an assassin. On my own."

"I disagree."

"You would."

AJ smiled at that. He knew what it was like to work alone, preferred it a lot of the time, but he'd gone beyond that. He had worked with good men, good teams, and he'd gone from taking orders to giving them. That was something in of itself. He had managed to forge a bond with men under his command that constantly surprised him. Some people assumed it was always like a father-son bond, but it wasn't. He counted men of the men—and women—under his command as family, yes, but the others, he counted them as friends.

"We have to get to Juliette. I know I put a team on her, but it's not enough," Nico insisted. He faltered, and Chegwidden forced him up again. "Have to talk to her—should have said something before."

"You really think she's yours?" AJ asked, wondering how his friend felt about that. Being a father was no easy job. Hell, AJ would take some of his worst assignments as a SEAL or most difficult calls in command over facing his daughter sometimes. He'd let her down, and he knew that. She still loved him, but he knew he'd failed her. It was one of the most important things he'd ever taken on, but he hadn't lived up to his obligation.

How Careles would feel about that? About taking on that responsibility—if it was his? AJ didn't think he could even begin to guess, not from his own experience or from how well he knew the man. It was something every man had to decide for himself.

"I don't know," Nico admitted slowly. He took a deep breath, and AJ thought he might actually want the girl to be his, but it was still difficult to say. "Gabriella wanted me to think she was. It kept me under her control. I—I took care of her like my own, did the best I could for her, especially since she had Marshall and Gabriella for parents. I didn't really make much of a difference, though. It doesn't matter. Osborne will see her as the next target, and at the very least, this will set back her rehab."

"You have another facility you want to take her to, then?"

Nico laughed. "I'm going to regret this, but I think she needs to be where Doctor Santino is."

"You're right," AJ agreed as they reached the car. "You _are_ going to regret this."

* * *

><p>"Nico? You look like crap."<p>

"It's good to see you, too, Juliette," Nico said with a slight smile, focusing on the sound of her voice because he was still having intermittent problems with his vision. He hadn't wanted to go from nearly getting blown up to letting Marshall take a swing at him, but it was necessary. He couldn't allow anyone else in Pittman's organization to be used to get to him. The security details were different, and he'd done everything he could to prepare them for the real threat. It wouldn't be enough if Osborne were really determined to cut his way through them, but he wouldn't want that. It wasn't about that.

"I missed you," she said, and he was surprised to feel her arms wrap around him in a hug. He heard Chegwidden laughing behind him. "What's with the visit? One of those things to keep me on my toes? Make sure I'm walking the sober line?"

Nico shook his head. "If I had to check up on you, that would mean that you weren't doing this for you. You were doing it for me, and it wouldn't last."

"You were the only one that never gave up on me—and then you did and it was what I needed to see what I was really doing. But if you tell anyone that, I'll deny it. This therapy thing is total crap. I can't believe the stuff they keep thinking we need to do around here. And I guess it must help some people, but that serenity prayer? Spare me, okay?"

"Yet you're still here."

"I am. It's kind of working—not all of it, some of it I'd like to throw out a window like I did that time we were in Milan—do you remember that? I can't remember half of it, but I _do _remember throwing all the new clothes Mom bought me out the window because I was pissed at her for taking off with some lothario when we were supposed to be having a girl trip, and there was Nico to the rescue."

Chegwidden coughed. Nico looked back at him. "It wasn't me."

"Wasn't you what?"

"That was your mother's lothario. At least not that time."

Juliette frowned at him. "Wait. What are you saying?"

"Damn, Nico, if that's your idea of breaking it to her gently, I'm not sure I want to know what your other approach would have been," AJ muttered, shaking his head as he stepped forward, attempting to diffuse the situation a little. Nico should apologize. That wasn't the way he meant that to come out, not at all. It just sort of... slipped. He was going to blame it on the concussion. "I don't think you remember me, either."

"Uncle AJ?" Juliette asked, laughing a little. "How could I forget you? You still have the shiniest head I've ever seen. You up here—oh, great, what are you two into now? That's why he looks like crap right now, isn't it?"

"You're a pretty smart girl," Chegwidden said, running a hand over his head before she attacked him with the same kind of hug she'd just given Nico.

"Who doesn't usually apply that to anything."

"Nico," Juliette said, annoyed. She gave him a smack on the arm. "That's for that comment. And now you'd better explain about you and my mom and what you're here for because this isn't about my rehab and you _do _look like crap. What's going on?"

"We'll explain in the car," Nico told her, resisting the impulse to rub at his arm. "On the way. Right now, for your own safety, we need to move you out of here."

"Where am I going? Another place like this?"

"No, not like this," Nico told her. He was not going to tell her about Santino right away. Let the doctor make her own introductions. She was better at that—and she would handle Juliette and anything the girl was capable of throwing at her. Hopefully, it would help distract her from what was going on—from being separated from her children and the threat to her own life—keeping Juliette on the path of sobriety. Though it might just make her angry that Nico had decided that Juliette could stay with her when her children couldn't.

He would have to fix that somehow, but he didn't know how just yet. He felt that moving the Santino kids at this point would be a mistake. He couldn't say for sure why—but he had learned to trust his instincts when it came to situations like this. They could not afford the risk.

For now, she could have Juliette.

And yes, he knew that was a dangerous combination. The two of them together was not something he was likely to survive. He should never let them meet. It was a bad idea—for him. He had no doubt that Santino's influence would help Juliette, but he knew the cost to himself would be high.

He knew he would regret it.

He already did.

* * *

><p>"Give Bud a phone," Dani began the minute that Nico walked back into the safe house. She had caught that press conference on television, and she didn't even know how to react to it. Horror, mostly, at what was said and what had happened. She shook her head. She'd figure that out later. All that mattered now was getting Bud his call to Harriet before the man died of heartsickness. He was so devoted to her. It was sweet and undeniable beautiful. "Now."<p>

Nico gave her a look, but he passed a phone to Bud anyway. The young man took it and immediately started pushing buttons and numbers. Relief washed over his face as the call connected. "Harriet? Oh, I'm so glad I can finally talk to you! You won't believe what's going on, and I know that's no excuse, but I hope you'll forgive me for that. I didn't mean not to tell you about any of this. Let me try and explain. Please? Oh, I love you."

Dani smiled in triumph, enjoying that thoroughly. She turned around and then frowned as she saw the girl that had come in with Nico and Chegwidden. "Oh. We have... guests."

"Danielle Santino," Nico gestured to her and then to the girl. "Juliette Pittman."

"Possibly Juliette Careles, actually," the girl corrected, walking around the room. She dropped a bag on the floor and curved her lips into a smile as she turned back to Nico. "Xeno picked this place out, didn't he? You would never allow this many windows."

"That's what I thought. Nico's too paranoid for windows, right?" Dani asked, though what she really wanted to do was ask about the possibility that this was Nico's daughter. She thought she might see a bit of resemblance there, but it was hard to be sure.

"Yep. Big time paranoid, Nico. Almost as bad as Uncle AJ," Juliette agreed, grinning back at Chegwidden. Now that took Dani by surprise, more than the idea of Juliette being Nico's daughter. "He's not really my uncle, but they used to be together all the time when I was younger. Then Dad—well, Marshall Pittman, who might _not _be my dad—got involved and screwed up everything. That's what he does best, really. I'm proof of that."

"Juliette." Nico's tone was a warning, and she looked over at him, sighing. She went and sat down on the couch, folding her arms over her chest. "By raising certain questions at the press conference, I compromised her safety. I've decided to relocate her here temporarily until other arrangements can be made—"

"Until he finds a new rehab center to shuffle me off to, he means," Juliette grumbled. Dani looked at her and then back at Nico. He nodded, taking one of the other chairs. He sat down stiffly, and she rolled her eyes. He'd gotten himself injured again. Great. "Yes, I am an addict. So's my mother—alcoholic—but she doesn't admit it. Still, it runs in the family."

On both sides, maybe, Dani couldn't help thinking of the comment that Nico had made at dinner, that exchange between him and Major Mackenzie. Perhaps Juliette got it from not one but both parents.

Dani whirled around, her hand on her hip as she glared at the instigator of all of this. She couldn't believe it. She just didn't. She should, because it was him, and he was capable of almost anything, but at the same time, she didn't. "Nico, you didn't tell her, did you?"

Nico gave Dani what he must have thought was an innocent look. It was not innocent by any means. She didn't think he would ever know the meaning of the word. It didn't make him the monster that he kept insisting that he was, but he was not innocent, either. "Tell her what?"

"My name is Dani, yes, but what he usually mentions is my title. _Doctor _Santino. I'm a licensed psychologist specializing in behavioral therapy. In other words, I've helped people with addictions before," she explained, giving Nico a look. He didn't react. Bastard.

"Sneaky," Juliette muttered, sticking her tongue out at her possible father. She turned back to Dani and shrugged. "I bet he thinks you can help me. Well, you're welcome to try. Just don't try any serenity prayers on me. I'm going to go pick out a room and watch some tv."

Dani watched her go off down the hallway, figuring that she was about to lose the room she'd more or less settled on, and then turned to Nico. "You never planned on taking her anywhere else, did you?"

He gave her a smile. "Why should I? You are the best therapist I know."

That flattery would get him nowhere. "You didn't bring Juliette to me the first time."

"You could have lost your job with the Hawks," Nico told her. She frowned at him.

Chegwidden shook his head. "Pittman cut his daughter off a couple years ago. Told everyone in his organization not to have anything to do with her. Officially, Nico never did, but Nico is good at being unofficial. If he'd approached you with assisting Juliette, Pittman would have fired you like the bastard that he is."

"Lovely," Dani muttered. She shook her head. "I do think I can probably help her, but this was rather underhanded and low, even for you, Nico."

Nico shrugged. "You have a higher opinion of me than I have ever had, Danielle. And I have no idea why, either."


	12. Change in Play

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,504  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I had a rough couple of patches with this story, but then it has some real beautiful parts, too. Funny how that goes.

* * *

><p><strong>Change in Play<strong>

"Did you get anything from Webb?"

"A fairly interesting personnel file," Mac said, looking over at Careles. He smiled a little, reaching for his water. He was maybe an even bigger mystery now with some of the pieces filled in. The file had only raised more questions—especially since it was hard to know how much of it could be trusted. "With that legend, I'm not surprised that you people were afraid of you."

"Ah, but how much of what they showed you is really my work?" Careles asked, smiling a little as he took a bite of his food. "That's the real question now, isn't it? I don't know what they showed you, though I suppose you could start asking. I can say yes, no, or no comment."

"Well, according to Webb, none of us have the clearance we'd need to look at your file. So you'd have a lot of no comments, right? Or would those be a no that really means yes?"

"Classified has little meaning when you're talking about ending this thing. He has hidden behind that for far too long already," Careles shook his head. "Osborne could argue anything under need-to-know, but that's not what it really is or what it was ever about. It wasn't national security. It was his agenda, pure and simple."

"Or not so simple. He had connections—why not a puppet master?" the admiral asked, and Careles looked over at him, shrugging. "You've thought about this some already, haven't you? The man who might be behind what Osborne was doing."

"Who hasn't, at this point? We know that he had someone above him to save him from the fate he should have had after he killed the judge and tried to kill the admiral," Harm began. He shook his head. "Webb said he had no idea who the higher level was, and I don't want to believe him, but I think he's telling the truth. We have no idea where to start looking for this man."

"Connect the dots."

"That, or let Osborne lead us to him."

"I thought we were trying to bait Osborne into our trap, not use him to find anyone."

"Can do both," Careles said. He smiled as everyone looked at him. "We're baiting the trap. So he'll be looking for it, trying to isolate and harass me until he's ready to make his move and attempt to kill me—he won't be able to, but he will try. While he's doing this, he will be looking for the trap, evading it. He won't be looking for surveillance back to the man who sent him into this. Even the CIA's efforts seem concentrated on capturing him, not finding the reason why he's free. Of course, they probably know that reason—some of them, at least."

"Tricky running a double game like that."

"Agreed, but there is little alternative."

"Before this gets completely swept under the rug and forgotten, what about Sergeant Peale?" Mac interrupted. Harm frowned at her, not recognizing the name. She wasn't sure if she should address the admiral or Careles. So far, the admiral had let Careles call a lot of the shots, and that was mostly working, but then again, it wasn't like the admiral, either. "His case might have been an excuse to get me and Bud to New York, but he deserves a real defense and real representation. We're not going to abandon him or let him be shoved under the bus while we take care of more important things. That is his life we're talking about."

"I can get Terrence to drop the charges."

"And the press?"

"They can smile for the cameras, TK will give him an autographed photograph and Hawks football plus a couple of fifty yard line tickets," Careles said. "If Peale agrees, of course."

"You're sure King will agree to this? He didn't seem all that cooperative before."

"If I can't get him to do it, then you can ask Doctor Santino. Terrence is mostly just talk, and when it comes right down to it, calling his bluff works nine times out of ten. Not to mention that the team fears me and will still do what I tell them regardless of my employment status," Careles smiled again. "I am certain that I can fulfill my part. It is up to you to speak to Peale and discuss options. The only reason there wasn't an immediate settlement was because you needed to remain in New York for longer."

"And now?" Mac asked, this time addressing the admiral. "If I don't have a reason to be here as a cover."

"Nico believes you might all be a part of this thing, cover or no cover. My people may be targets because Osborne can't touch me, either."

"If that's the case, sir, shouldn't we bring Harriet here? Bud will never be the same if something happens to her."

"She can join Roberts with the detail with Santino and Juliette," Careles agreed. He looked at his watch and picked up his coat as he got to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I have another meeting."

"Wait, don't you need protection or... something?"

The admiral laughed. "Thought you said you saw his file."

* * *

><p>Bud wasn't sure he should open the door, but he knew that someone had to answer the knock. He'd figured out that no one else was on this floor, no one but Careles' security staff pretending to be residents—they were way too guarded and armed to be regular people, but it was a nice touch, he thought. So really, if someone was knocking on the door, it almost had to be one of the people in his organization, didn't it?<p>

He took a deep breath before he opened the door. If anything happened to Doctor Santino or Juliette because he did this, he knew he'd never survive the day, but he had to figure that it was as safe as it could be here.

He opened the door and stared. He had to reach down and see if he was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. There, standing in front of him was the one thing he wanted. He should say—the one person that he wanted to see. "Harriet? How did you...?"

She shrugged, giving him a warm grin before throwing her arms around him. "I am so glad to see you. I was getting really worried before, and I didn't know what I was going to do, but then the admiral called me and told me that I had a plane waiting for me. I didn't believe it at first, but there was a taxi outside my door and everything. Someone arranged it all. I got a flight, was met by a driver—admittedly, he was kind of scary. Big man, dreadlocks. I thought I'd gotten over being intimidated by people after all these years in the navy, but I was still a little concerned. Then he gave me a phone, the admiral told me to trust him, and here I am."

Bud hugged her close, unable to help the smile on his face. He didn't know why they'd brought her here, but he couldn't help feeling glad and grateful and everything. He didn't like being separated from her, and being separated while all of this craziness was going on—that was even harder. "I am so glad you're here."

"Me, too. So, now that I'm here, where is here? Why are we here?"

"Well, it's a protection detail, and I'm kind of in over my head," he admitted. "I don't know what I'm doing. So... maybe with you here, I can do better."

"Did I hear the door?" Santino asked, coming into the room. "Oh. Hi. You must be Harriet."

"I am," Harriet agreed. She gave Bud a look, and he shrugged helplessly. She'd probably have a another look for him when she saw Juliette. At least with Santino, he could explain that he thought there was something between her and Careles.

"Doctor Danielle Santino," the other woman said. "Nico left Bud in charge of protecting me while we're here. Are you going to be a part of that as well?"

"I think that might be the case, ma'am."

"Oh, it's Dani. I'm still getting Bud to do that, but really, you don't need to call me by anything formal. I'm just Dani," the other woman said, trying to make Harriet feel comfortable with the situation. "Really, I'm probably the least of your worries. The real test of anyone's abilities—even mine—will be your other charge."

"Oh?" Harriet asked, looking a bit nervous now. "Why is that?"

"Because I'm a spoiled little rich girl who ended up as an addict and just got yanked out of rehab by a man who may or may not be my father because I'm some kind of target and I'm a bit of a handful on a good day?" Juliette suggested, and Bud frowned, trying to figure out where she'd gotten the bag of candy from. "The doctor is good at what she does, though. Haven't managed to trick her yet."

"She got me, though. A few times," Bud said sheepishly.

Harriet smiled at him. He had to smile back. He was just so glad that she was here. He was still kind of in shock about it, too. This was too good to be true.

"It'll be nice to have another woman on this protection detail. I didn't get much of a chance to talk to Major Mackenzie, but you know—there are things that men just don't think about for women, no matter how good they are at strategy."

"Oh, yes, ma'am, I know what you mean," Harriet agreed, and Bud frowned again. Maybe this wasn't as good of an idea as he first thought. If Harriet took the women's side, no matter what the issue was, he was going to be in big trouble. Very big trouble.

* * *

><p>Nico walked along the street, putting his hands in his pockets and trying to ignore the chill that was seeping in with the night. He had gotten used to the weather in the city after so many years in residence, but coming back from the jungle had been an adjustment. Times like now, with his paranoia in full force, the memories of the jungle at the front of his mind, and Osborne out there, hunting him, he would have expected nothing less than the feeling he had now. The cold was a warning. He knew what it was, what it felt like, what that message within it was. It had layers, not just a simple chill, and he knew that if he turned a corner, found a dark alley, he would find himself alone with his pursuer.<p>

He was not ready for that confrontation yet. Soon.

It would be soon. He did not want to delay it any longer than he had to, but these were not ideal conditions. If he pushed too soon, the whole thing would fall apart. As it was, the plan was lousy and he felt close to that, but there was little alternative. This was what they had to do.

He walked into the shop. Osborne would not follow him inside. He could do what he needed to do, and then he would face off with the monster again.

"Ah, Nikolai. So long, no see. You neglect the family."

Nico shook his head. "You know better. I left the family a long time ago."

"There is no leaving the family. You know this."

Nico forced a smile. So many times he'd heard that, and it never changed. They still thought he'd go back into the fold someday, but they were wrong. His father had been one of them, but Nico had never become what he was. There had been a Careles that was feared within the ranks, but it was never him. He was feared in other circles. He had tried to leave one life of killing behind and found another—one that was, in many ways, worse. In some ways, better. The past twenty years had been free of all of that, and yet it would not ever go away. He was, as they had told him years ago, a born killer. He would always be one.

"I am not here to make amends. I came for the information you promised."

"It is out of respect for your father that I came at all. I owe you nothing."

Nico nodded. "I know. I have been cooperative in the past—you know this. I am just not looking to take up my father's role."

"It is a shame. He was one of the better dons."

"Convenient that you forget how many people he had to kill to get to that point," Nico muttered. The in-fighting and wars had gotten his mother killed, and that was not something he'd ever been able to forget. His father's need for revenge had made him rise to the top. It had been a lot of blood, blood that Nico had wanted no part of. He had thought that he'd gotten lucky when the judge offered him a choice between enlistment and jail, and he'd taken enlistment. He'd thought he had something better—yes, he was trained to kill, he was expected to do so in defense of his country, but there had been a nobility there that he'd fallen for as a young man.

That shine had quickly worn off, and while he had learned to appreciate the teams he served with and the opportunity he'd been given to become a SEAL. He had learned a lot—he had forged bonds with people that he would never have known otherwise, and he had traveled to many places he would never have seen.

Still, every path seemed to point back to one inevitable conclusion.

Death.

Not his—though he'd come close a few times. This death was usually something that happened at his hands. He had plenty of blood on them, and by the time this was done, there would be more.

"Here. These are the names you were interested in. Few of them are supposed to be dead."

"So am I."

"I would like to see the man that manages that, Nikolai. He would have to be something special indeed. You are like your father. Impossible to kill."

"Papa has been dead for years."

"Ah, but perhaps that is just what he wants us all to think," the older man said, walking to the back of the shop. Nico shook his head as he turn to the front door, the bell jingling as he pushed it open to walk outside.

His eyes were immediately drawn to a figure in the shadows. Anyone else might have missed it, but Nico had been expecting it. "How long are you going to wait there, Osborne? Even the shadows are too good for you."

"True," Osborne agreed as he stepped forward. "They were always your territory, weren't they?"

"No one can own the darkness. It owns them."


	13. Unanswered Questions

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,513  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Long conversation, a bit of skipping ahead... There's usually a reason for these things. Maybe.

* * *

><p><strong>Unanswered Questions<strong>

"I guess it's a good thing that Bud is bunking down with Doctor Santino and the others," Mac commented, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling over at Harm. He gave her a look, too tired to do more right now. He didn't know what they were going to do next, not in terms of this Osborne thing, but he knew that he was ready to hit the sack. "Means you get your own bed—and no sleeping in shifts."

Harm smiled a little. "Look at you. Finding the silver lining. I'm proud of you."

She picked up a pillow and threw it at him. He made a face, then folded his arms over his chest as he addressed her sternly, pointing a finger at her. "Now, Major, don't be destroying any of the motel's property. You could have broken that mirror behind me."

She rolled her eyes. "It was a pillow, Harm, and you deserve a lot more than that."

"Probably," he agreed, crossing over to sit down next to her. Careles had left for his appointment, and despite the way that the admiral had dismissed Harm's questions about the former SEAL needing some kind of protection, he had followed his friend not long after, leaving Harm and Mac to finish their dinner in a strained silence. They were out of their depth here, whether they wanted to admit that or not. This was a game that Osborne and Careles were playing, and only the two of them knew the rules. They hadn't let anyone else in on it, and that wouldn't change. The admiral could follow along and adapt to them as well, but he knew both men. None of the rest of them did. They didn't know what they were doing.

Bud, at least, had a role. He might not think he could handle his protection duty, and he might not like it, either, but he still had a function, a way to make himself useful. Other than talking to Webb, Harm and Mac had no real part to play, and they were feeling it. It was one thing to be lost in a situation like this, but to have only a part of the picture and no role, no way to be of use—that was probably the hardest part to accept. He was a fighter pilot, a man of action. Mac was a marine. They wanted to be doing something useful.

"You think you'll wrap up that Peale thing tomorrow?" Harm asked, looking at Mac.

She reached up to rub her neck. "I don't know. Maybe. Hopefully. I don't know how well Peale will react to the offer that Careles made, but I guess I hope he takes it. I don't—I kind of see his point, and I hate the idea of sweeping it under the rug. I don't agree with what he did, but I am as angry as he is about the way he and other veterans have been treated."

"I know what you mean, Mac. We're in the middle of an unpopular war, and it's never seemed right to me that people that don't know anything about the fighting, that don't understand the sacrifices that the men and women over there make, that have never served are making judgments like that. These people give their lives. They give up their comfort and leave their loved ones to protect someone else, and that always seems to get forgotten."

"Not always," Mac disagreed. She gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I know that touches a nerve with you—your father. I know why the admiral gave me the case. I'm a little less likely to react as strongly as you."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Thanks a lot," she muttered, smacking him on the arm. He reached over and rubbed the sore spot as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Like it was that bad. I could have done a lot worse."

"That is abuse, Major."

"What are you going to do about it, squid?" she asked, throwing the words at him like a challenge. He looked at her, a smile creeping over his face as he thought about what he might do. He leaned over, getting right in her personal space, ready to accept that challenge. He was never one to back down, even when he should have. He smiled, carefully choosing what to tell her when the door suddenly opened.

They both looked over in surprise, jumping apart somewhat guiltily as the admiral came in, followed by Careles. That was unexpected, to say the least.

How had they gotten in here? Did they have a key? Or did they have some way of breaking the hotel's security? That wasn't very reassuring, but neither was the fact that Harm wasn't as sure that he had a room to himself anymore. Was the admiral staying here? Harm didn't really want to share the bed in shifts with his commanding officer. He hadn't been very thrilled with the idea of doing that with Bud, but he was used to Bud. Mostly. And what had happened to Careles this time? He looked like hell. Again. Did the man ever take a break? Probably not. No one else in the room would have.

"Here," Careles threw something at Mac, who caught it and lifted it up in her hand. Harm thought he recognized it, but then again, technology wasn't exactly his strong point. Not unless it had wings. Then he understood it. Machines were different from gadgets, and he preferred the ones without the computers to the ones with them. That was why he drove his Corvette. Why he had Sarah—the plane, not the woman next to him.

The woman next to him was very much her own person, and she would always stay that way.

"What is this?" Mac asked, turning it over in her fingers. She made it disappear like a magician did a coin, and Harm smiled a little. Nice trick. It helped lighten the mood a little.

"The frequency unit for the tracker I planted on Osborne. The actual tracker uses burst transmissions and modulates itself over time, so that is the only way of making it work," Careles answered, setting himself down in the chair. He did not look even the slightest bit comfortable. If Harm had to bet, he'd say that the man had gotten hurt again. What was that, three times in the last day? The guy had no sense of self-preservation. Made him a good SEAL, but it also meant that no one would want to protect him.

Harm tried to take the unit from Mac, but she held it out of his reach. As the admiral gave them a look, Harm forced a tight smile at her triumphant one and turned to Careles again. "How did you manage to plant a tracker on Osborne?"

"He was too focused on trying to knife me to notice that I was planting it on him," Careles seemed amused by that, but Harm had a feeling that the man hadn't walked away without a scratch, not from that encounter. Judging from the admiral's dark look, he was right. How bad was the damage this time? Was there anything that they could do to keep him still for a while, to let him recover from part of it? Probably not.

Careles didn't even seem to care. He kept talking, gesturing to the tracker he'd given Mac. "It's actually a very ingenious device—one I think that Mr. Webb's agency would envy, since I doubt they have it. This one was developed in the private sector, by a firm I have some connections with. They are always on the leading edge of technology, right up there with our agencies. In some respects, that is unfortunate, and yet it is not. I have always appreciated the access I've had. These things are not just for militaries and spy games. The best part is that I don't think that Osborne will even notice the slight alteration to his jacket. Unfortunately, if he goes anywhere without it, that will do us no good, but it is better than nothing."

Harm exchanged a look with Mac. She might be concerned as well, but she was doing a pretty good job of concealing it. "I thought you were—you said you had a meeting. You went off to face Osborne alone?"

Careles shook his head. "No. I knew AJ would follow, and it was not Osborne that I was meeting. If I had arranged a set meeting with him—well, no, that would never happen. I really would have liked to have ended this tonight, but since we need the puppet master, we had to avoid that for now. Osborne thinks he's won, but he's wrong. We're closer to the one holding his strings than he realizes. That is the other part of what I managed to uncover tonight. For you, Commander. I figure you can do something with these names."

Harm caught the envelope that Careles tossed him, frowning at it for a moment before opening it up. "Who are these people supposed to be?"

"Possible sponsors for our favorite psychopath," the admiral was the one to answer this time. Careles had closed his eyes and looked like he might be on the verge of passing out again. It wouldn't surprise Harm at all. Had he told Chegwidden what was in the envelope or had the admiral already opened it?

"Does he need medical attention?"

The admiral grunted. "He'll say no, but we all know better. Don't worry about it, Commander. I'll drag him over to the doctor's hands soon enough."

"You are _not _letting her fuss over me," Careles mumbled, still more on the side of out than he was on the other. He lifted a hand and pointed vaguely in Chegwidden's direction. "She is _not _a medical doctor. It is not a good idea to go back to their location, either. It would compromise her safety. And Juliette's."

"Lieutenant?"

Careles opened his eyes a little, focusing on Chegwidden. "Sir?"

"Shut up," the admiral ordered, and Careles laughed a little before he curled up further in the chair, looking like he intended to sleep. Harm looked back at his list. "Nico's contact got us a few interested parties. We'll need more information. That will be for you two—and possibly Webb, if need be—will get for us. Major, are you planning on resolving Peale tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir, if that's not an issue for us or for the sergeant," she agreed, trying to look at the list. Harm held it out of her reach. This one was his. If she wasn't going to let him see the tracker, he got to keep this paper. Fair was fair. She gave him a look and smacked his arm again, right in the same spot. Oh, this was going to mean war, wasn't it?

"Shouldn't be on our end, but you make sure he's comfortable with the decision before you proceed."

Harm looked down at the paper again. "Between this and the tracker—Sir, if it's not too much to ask, why do you two even need us?"

Chegwidden rubbed one hand over his knuckles. "What the lieutenant over there likes to forget is that SEALs work as a team. That means that we're more than one lone ranger, one commando on his own going in. He thinks he likes working that way, but you've seen him after a concussion."

"I resent that. I'm not an idiot. I do good work by myself."

Chegwidden turned back to look at him. Careles hadn't opened his eyes, still looked mostly asleep, but he very clearly wasn't. "Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

"You're talking about me."

"Not the point, Lieutenant, and I'll talk about you if I want to. I outrank you, remember?" The admiral went over and helped Careles back onto his feet, the other man grunting as he did. "I had to punch that bastard right in the face to get you out of that mess back there, and don't forget that, either. You can't do this on your own, so accept it. You've got good people backing you up. They'll see you through it."

"Doesn't matter. If Osborne doesn't get me, Santino will," Careles muttered, stumbling toward the door. "Dead man either way."

"Oh, hell, Nico, love's not a death sentence," the admiral disagreed, laughing a little. Harm looked at Mac, and she shook her head. She probably thought it was most of the time. Since the admiral was divorced and had lost the judge, he might be inclined to think differently, but he apparently didn't. "Just... close enough sometimes."

Careles tried to stop as the admiral kept prodding him toward the door. "It is more than close. And more than sometimes. She's with a girl who—biologically or not—is my daughter. I repeat—I am a dead man."

"I take your point," the admiral agreed, opening the door again. "I suggest you enjoy the last few days—should be a hell of a ride this time."

Whatever Careles said to that was in Italian and cut off before he was done as the door shut behind them. Harm shook his head, a part of him wishing that he knew what they were saying and the other half convinced that he didn't really want to know. Mac laughed, a grin on her face. Harm didn't realize that Italian was one of the languages she knew.

"You understood that?"

She shook her head. So she hadn't gotten the Italian. That made Harm feel a little bit better. "No, but I think I could guess. I don't think Careles liked the way the admiral was talking about his future girlfriend."

"Oh."

She looked at the door again, still smiling. "I am seeing a whole new side to the admiral, and I have to say, I kind of like it."

Harm nodded in agreement. Careles was good for the admiral, and the other man needed to have Chegwidden around. He needed him to pull his ass out of the fire, and Harm couldn't think of a better person to do that than the admiral. Either him or Mac, and if not them, then Bud. "Yeah, me, too. I just hope his friend doesn't manage to get himself killed doing all this."

"I wonder what really happened with him and Osborne."

That was one hell of a question, wasn't it? They didn't have any information on the past. Even the file that Webb had showed them hadn't included that information. Like the SEAL team that the admiral had served with, the details had been concealed, and Osborne wasn't listed anywhere in Careles' file. That left Harm with plenty of questions, wanting to demand answers that he knew he'd never get. Careles wasn't going to share, and the admiral backed him on it. Even what had happened to Careles earlier wasn't going to be public knowledge, or so it would seem.

Harm turned to Mac. "You mean tonight or before?"

She shrugged. "Take your pick."

"We'll probably never know."


	14. Backtracking

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,614  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: And we go back a little, in more than one sense...

* * *

><p><strong>Backtracking<strong>

"And that is why I am no longer allowed to go in Saks," Juliette finished, leaving Harriet giggling, and Bud's eyes wide and stunned. Dani wanted to laugh, but the story wasn't really funny as much as it was tragic, and Juliette didn't even realize it. She was a girl who had been raised with money and privilege, with a lack of guidance and responsibility, allowed to experience an overindulgence that made her think that her life, while on the surface one of luxury and decadence, was all there was. That emptiness and abandonment had shaped her, left her feeling that the only way to have any kind of attention was to act out. Her behavior was shocking, even appalling in some of the stories, but she didn't see it for what it was, didn't see how much she'd hurt herself and others around her.

In many ways, Juliette was almost a typical cliché of a rich girl, spoiled and neglected, but she was not just that, either. She had something more than the distant employees that raised her and her parents. She had Nico. Those were the stories that Dani enjoyed hearing more than the others. Those ones were happier, even when Juliette was telling them about some kind of mistake that she had made that Nico bailed her out of. No, his habit of enabling her wasn't one that should be admired, but then again, those stories were also the ones where Juliette could tell that someone cared about her.

"What about you? What's the worst thing you ever did while shopping, Dani?"

"Uh..."

"I have a few stories," Harriet began, and Bud looked at her. She grinned. "Of course, one of them I promised Bud I wouldn't tell and another one I don't think he wants to hear."

He gave her a worried look. She gave him a big smile and patted his cheek. They were amusing to watch—and it made Dani a bit jealous, too. She had never experienced that, not even when she and Ray were really in love.

"I think we've shared enough embarrassing stories for one day. Bud might never be the same after all this," Dani said, and Bud got red. He tried to smile, but he was clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter, at least. She felt a bit sorry for him, since she and everyone could pretty much guess what that other story of Harriet's was.

They looked up as the door opened again. Chegwidden brought Nico back into the room, helping him along as he did. "I have another patient for you, Doctor."

"Shut up, AJ. She's not that kind of doctor," Nico grumbled, and Dani looked over at them, watching Nico sit down and shaking her head. She didn't think that she wanted to know. They were constantly bickering, and it was amusing most of the time, but right now, she didn't feel quite as amused as she usually did. "You don't have to do anything, Doctor. I am fine."

"I'll believe that when I see it, and right now, I am _not _seeing it," Dani muttered. She could not believe that he'd managed to get himself injured _again. _He really had no sense of self-preservation, did he? What was it this time? Another fight? Or worse—another explosion? "What is wrong with you, Nico? Are you _trying _to get yourself killed?"

"No, I am not. This is not about that."

"You have to at least stay alive long enough to find out if you're really my father," Juliette said, trying to make it sound like a joke, but Dani caught the tone in her voice. Nico was someone that had been there for her, and she was genuinely worried about losing him.

"He left plenty of blood behind that could have been tested."

"Hey, I didn't _ask _for Osborne to come up when I was dealing with contacts from... my past," Nico added the last part a bit distastefully. "It was handled, but it was not ideal, I agree. I was not alone, though, if that was your concern."

"I could have been too late, and then where would you be?"

"In a different stage of the game, I suppose."

"Dani, can you smack my maybe-father and remind him he's not allowed to die if he is my father? Or if he isn't?" Juliette asked, shaking her head. "This isn't funny. I can handle being under house arrest—I was just in rehab. I get it, okay? I know this is for our protection, and I think I've been pretty good about it. But I am _not _good with losing him right now."

Nico frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be angry with me for the whole confusion over who your father is?"

"My mom's the slut. You're just the one who fell for her crap."

"Nicely put, Juliette."

She shrugged. Dani sighed. It was time to take charge of this conversation somehow. "Okay, first, we're going to look at that wound. I know I'm not that kind of doctor, Nico, but you'll shut up and let me look because I _am _a mother, and if I haven't seen it and bandaged it, it almost doesn't exist."

He gave her a look. She folded her arms over her chest. "Should I have the admiral hold you down for me?"

Bud coughed. "Uh, Ma'am?"

She turned back to look at him. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Uh, I just... Not sure you can order the admiral around. Dani. Ma'am. Uh, I think I should go check with the guards. Yeah, that's it."

Dani faced Nico again. "Well?"

* * *

><p>"Stop fussing."<p>

"Stop moving."

"I think you two act like you're already married," Juliette observed, instantly stopping the bickering between Nico and Santino. AJ wanted to laugh. The looks on their faces was entirely worth it, and then Sims made it even better by taking a picture.

"I want a copy of that one."

"Yes, sir," she agreed with a smile. That woman was a valuable part of his organization, though sometimes he found her behavior just as irritating as the others. Still, he'd be a fool if he didn't realize that his ship ran smoothly because of her presence. Of course it did. She was a big part of keeping the administrative part of the job from falling apart, especially since no one else wanted to do it. He could order them to do it, he had that power and authority, but then she made it all look easy.

"This is not funny," Nico muttered. "Doctor Santino is in the process of a divorce, and even were that not the case, there are other men in that equation who are _not _me. A certain JD Aldridge, and if not him, then Matthew Donnally."

Santino's head jerked up, startled, and she started to shake her head. "JD went to Africa, which I thought you knew, and there's nothing between me and Matt."

"Not now, perhaps, but there was, and were it not for Ms. Radcliffe—who is, I might add, no longer in the equation, either—there would be," Nico said, not realizing how much he gave away with the tone he had. "I think my side is sufficiently treated. You can stop prodding it and cover it with the bandage now. I have other things I should be doing."

"No, you should rest," Santino disagreed immediately. She didn't seem comfortable with the revelation of her private life to everyone, and judging from the confusion around the room, no one else saw this thing with Aldridge or Donnally, not that Sims or Roberts knew Santino personally. Juliette, though, she shook her head. She clearly didn't care for at least one of the other woman's choices. "Stay put. You can afford to take a few minutes, though it really should be hours, and you should sleep."

"She's got a point, Nico. You're running damn close to empty, and we need you back at the top of your game to finish this out," AJ agreed. The other man gave him a dark look, but he relented as Chegwidden hauled him to his feet, helping him back to one of the bedrooms. "You could have mentioned the others before."

"The men in her life, you mean?"

"The competition, yes," Chegwidden agreed. "You knew that everyone was making assumptions about you and her. Why not say something then?"

Nico shrugged as he sat down on the bed. "The feelings you assume on my side, at least, are still there. It's not something I can afford to acknowledge, but that does not mean that they are not there. I am not ignorant, though. I know about her personal life. It falls—fell—under my role of keeping her protected as a Hawks asset. I looked into Aldridge, and I knew about her before Donnally introduced her to the team. As much as it disgusts me, his personal life is a concern of mine, too. Same with the players. I know more dirty laundry than I would ever want to know. After a while, it becomes routine. I became desensitized, like with the killing. Had to, or I'd never have stayed in this job for as long as I did."

"I still don't see why you think Pittman deserved that much from you," AJ admitted. He didn't. The man was a pig at best, and that was an insult to pigs. "Though if you felt the need to punish yourself for what you did, I can see you picking Pittman for that. You certainly suffered enough there, didn't you?"

"I suppose," Nico agreed, kicking off his shoes and lying back against the pillow. "We checked for bugs and transmissions, didn't we?"

"Yes, even though you carry those signal jammers in your coat, we checked you after your fight with Osborne. He didn't plant anything on you unless it was something small and on the damn knife."

"Nothing to be done about that part, then. We'll know soon enough if he knows. He'll come for me again. That is a part of the plan."

"You need to sleep. At least two hours, Lieutenant. That's an order."

"Can't order me to sleep," Nico said, shaking his head even as his eyes closed. AJ smiled to himself and shut the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"<em>No one can own the darkness. It owns them."<em>

_Osborne laughed. "And is that what happened to you, Careles? Does the darkness own you?"_

"_It always has."_

_Nico watched the other man carefully, trying to gauge when Osborne would make his move. The other man was armed. Nico was not. He knew that it would have been little advantage if he was in better shape. He could have easily disarmed the other man and eliminated that advantage completely. In his current state, that wasn't as much of a guarantee as it would have been. He probably wouldn't get the weapon, but he didn't need to have it. He just needed to make this fight convincing._

_And not die in the process._

_Chegwidden was around somewhere. At least, Nico assumed that he was. He'd left an obvious enough trail for his former commanding officer. It should have been something that AJ could follow. The others—the members of AJ's staff, they'd thought Nico needed protection, but he would have been fine if he'd only done what he set out to do. Now he had to keep himself alive long enough to plant the tracker and get the names back to the others. _

_Simple enough._

"_You still going to blame what we are on the darkness? On the past? You know it's not that simple," Osborne disagreed. "They want to dictate our decisions with laws and rules and morals, but there is no reason for them. Civilization is an illusion. We make our own laws and rules, men like us."_

"_No, you throw them away, and I am _not _like you," Nico said, glaring at the other man. He was not like him. He might have killed, but he didn't do it for the same reasons. He didn't blindly accept orders. He didn't do it for the thrill or because it was for his country. It was still a decision, a choice, and each time, he'd made it or rejected it, right up until the point he basically drank himself out of the navy. He could do his job—he could still kill—when he was drinking. It took the edge off of it, helped numb him to what he he was doing. It was when every waking moment needed to be numbed that Nico knew he had a problem. _

_He'd taken the dishonorable discharge, and he'd attempted to start over. He had made the wrong choice, serving out a debt to Pittman, but eventually, he'd sobered up and made it work. He had some kind of a life. A life where he did not kill._

_That life was, of course, what Osborne wanted to take away from him. He'd waited all this time for Nico to have something worth taking, and now he was doing it, piece by piece. Even if he didn't know what he was doing, it was what Osborne had done._

"_You know better than that. You and are are part of the same," Osborne insisted. "You know that we could do so much more than this. All you have to do is accept it."_

"_Accept what? That you intend to kill me and anyone connected to me? I am not going to accept that. Ever. You will be the one that ends up dead, I can promise you that."_

"_What, because you've teamed up with Chegwidden? He couldn't kill me before, and he won't kill me now. You know better than to think he'll finish what you started. If the judge's death couldn't bring him to kill me, nothing will."_

_Nico knew that Osborne was wrong. If he'd touched even one hair on Francesca's hands, AJ would have strangled Osborne with his bare hands. You didn't mess with a man's family. The judge had been loved, but she was not AJ's blood like Francesca was._

"_You can't corrupt everyone. It doesn't work that way."_

"_You and I are already corrupt."_

_Nico hated the truth of that statement, but he refused to let himself be baited. He was not going to make the first move, not one made in anger. Osborne would do that. Nico would not. "You were corrupt long before I knew you, and you never brought me down to your level."_

"_You can't deny what you are. You've been running from it for a long time, but you have that blood inside you. You know what it is. You know what you are."_

"_He did acknowledge me as a part of the family, yes. Did that ever happen with you?" Nico asked. He shook his head, answering his own question. "Of course not. You didn't have the right nationality, did you? Not enough of it, at least."_

_Osborne lunged for Nico, the sudden attack not unexpected but still catching him unprepared. He hit the wall, and Osborne stabbed a knife into Nico's side. Grunting, Nico reached into his pocket and took out the tracker, attaching it to Osborne's coat as he shoved the other man away. _

_Nico looked down at the rip in his clothes, trying to ignore the stinging pain in his side. Osborne came back, swiping with the knife. Nico ducked, and they started to struggle until someone pulled Osborne off, punching him right in the face._

_Nico shook his head as Chegwidden offered a hand to help him up. "You're late."_

"_And you're about as lucky as usual, Lieutenant," AJ muttered. "Let's get out of here."_


	15. Highs and Lows

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,531  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Good and bad, funny and not...

* * *

><p><strong>Highs and Lows<strong>

"Daddy? Or should I call you Dad? I think I like Daddy better, personally," Juliette said, making the mattress bounce as she moved around, leaning over the side and then jumping up to crowd his face. Nico looked at her, frowning. What was this? He was still dreaming, wasn't he? That was the only real answer, because Juliette was not... No, she was there. The bouncing was real. Real and obnoxious.

"What are you doing, Juliette?"

She grinned at him. He was starting to get concerned. The last time he'd seen her like this, she was high. It had taken him the better part of two days to get her down, get her clean, and then he knew he shouldn't leave her, but he'd had no choice. He didn't understand how she could have gotten to anything here, though. The safe house had no drugs. "They tried to take my candy away, so then I emptied the rest of the bag into my mouth, and that was after the pancakes drenched in syrup and the kool-aid."

Nico groaned. Sometimes he thought that her behavior in a manic phase like this was worse than the drugs. "Who let you have that much sugar? You haven't acted like this since you were ten."

"Ten!" She cried, rolling over and putting her head on his stomach as she sighed. "I miss being ten. Being ten was easy. And fun. It was a lot more fun than this."

He started pushing her off of him, but she turned around in his grasp and tapped a finger on his chest. "Hey, if you really are my father, can we go do fun things that fathers and daughters are supposed to do? We should so crash a father-daughter dance and play mini golf and go to a fair where you can win me something big, ugly and stuffed."

Nico shook his head. He did not want to deal with this right now. He caught sight of Santino in the doorway, not liking the smile on her face. Clearly, this amused her, and she would not intervene any time soon. Fine. He would handle Juliette on his own, though if this was how Santino let her patient act... He prodded the girl off of him, and she rolled to the other side of the bed, making it bounce again.

"Juliette, why don't you find your uncle AJ and get him to help you put that energy to work?" Santino finally suggested, moving into the room. Juliette looked like she might pout, but she caught the look on the doctor's face and sighed instead. "You know that your father is supposed to be resting."

Nico was done resting. He had things to do now. He sat up, decided the pain in his side was tolerable and started to get up. "I have to—"

"You are going to stay put and rest, Santino ordered, and he found himself glaring at her again. Juliette giggled as she left the room. At least that was finished.

"I don't need rest. I have things to do. We need to see what Rabb and Mackenzie have learned."

"That is going to wait," Santino insisted. "AJ can handle that after he gets Juliette calmed down. You are staying here, and we are going to have a talk."

Absolutely not. He was not having any kind of discussion now. "I am not in the mood to talk."

"I can bring your daughter back in here if you prefer," she warned. He shook his head. Juliette on a sugar high was almost as bad as her on PCP. "That's what I thought. You owe me an apology, at the very least."

"I am not apologizing. I don't know why you think I would."

Santino shook her head. "You have done your best to push me away since this thing started, and it may be that you think distance will keep either of us safe, but you are wrong, for one thing, and even if it did, you do not have the right to make judgments about my personal life in front of everyone. Just because Matt is single again doesn't mean I'm running back to him."

"In this circumstance, perhaps not," Nico agreed quietly. She couldn't, not at the moment. She had to stay here and stay safe. If not for that, though, things would be different. "In another, you would do so all too quickly."

"I don't know what kind of a fool you think I am, Nico, but you do not know that."

"Don't I?" he countered, meeting her gaze. "My job is ninety percent observation. I see plenty. I make judgment calls daily, and I am not a fool, either."

"Aren't you? You think no one gives a damn about you, but you have AJ and Juliette and Marcie and Xeno and the whole damn team! And I am not interested in Matt, you idiot! I was, but I have been hurt enough by the ones that don't stay, the ones that cheat. No, it might not have been fair to expect him to wait, but he didn't. Whereas you have been waiting very patiently despite your conviction that you would never have a chance to play even if you thought you were worthy of that chance. Guess what? You can be a real bastard sometimes, but that doesn't mean that you're not worthy of love. Maybe if someone had shown you more of that you wouldn't be so wounded now."

He stared at her. Her words implied something that he had not anticipated and didn't know how to react to. "Danielle—"

She climbed onto the bed and kissed him, and he closed him eyes for a moment, knowing he should push her away. This could not happen.

"Nico, we need to move. Rabb and Mackenzie connected a name from your list to Osborne's current location."

Santino cursed. Nico looked over at the door. "As usual, sir, your timing is lousy."

"Suck it up, Lieutenant. We have an opportunity to end this, and we are going to do it."

* * *

><p>"Report," Chegwiddin ordered, walking into the room. He took a look around him, and shook his head in disapproval. "Actually, begin with what the hell he's doing here."<p>

Webb glared at the admiral and Careles. Mac smiled a little, and Harm almost laughed. This should be interesting. After the way Webb had reacted when he showed up at Harm's room, Harm was looking forward to the two former SEALs putting him in his place. Even the admiral would have been enough, but two was better than one.

"The hell are you doing with this?" Webb demanded, taking it right to Careles and waving it in his face, which was most likely a bad idea. Harm wouldn't blame the former SEAL for breaking something at this point. "This is government property, highly classified."

"No, that is private property, a prototype with a registered patent," Careles disagreed. He smiled tightly as Webb continued to sputter. "Now I'd like to get back to AJ's question. Why are you here?"

"Your—well, Major Mackenzie and Commander Rabb's inquiries into a few names drew a few red flags. A lot of them, actually. Where did you get this list?"

Careles smiled again as he sat down in the chair he'd used last night. This time he looked a lot better, though. "I have sources of my own, Webb."

"That include the head of the crime family that controls half the eastern seaboard?"

"Have you met my cousin, then?" Careles asked, somewhat surprised. "Well, second cousin once removed, I should say. Still a cousin, I guess."

Harm looked at him. Was Careles _kidding?_ He was related to that guy? To a man who controlled crime family? Bud had mentioned a mob connection, but Harm had thought it was a joke. He turned to Mac, and she shrugged. It really wasn't that big of a deal, was it? It was just another part of Careles' ever growing myth, and they weren't going to know all of them, ever. She had a better attitude about it, honestly.

"Your cousin? What about your father?" Webb asked, folding his arms over his chest. Careles looked at him blankly, pretending he didn't know what the other man was saying. "Didn't he control most of Pennsylvania once?"

Careles shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"Right."

"Can we focus on what we found with Osborne?" Mac interrupted, trying to bring the conversation back to what they were all here for, one way or another. "We may have the answer to who put him in play, who let him threaten Careles and his people, and who got those men killed."

Careles no longer pretended to be disinterested. "What's the name?"

Webb frowned. "You're not planning on going off alone, are you?"

"I am bait. I have to be alone. And we already discussed the reasons why I would never accept protection from your agency, Mr. Webb. Especially not from you," Careles said as he got to his feet. "You have two hours. I will get Osborne's attention and draw him away from his possible protector. I need proof that there's a connection."

"Someone should be backing you up, Careles. If not one of us, than one of your people. You were injured last night. And before that," Harm insisted. He looked at the admiral. Wasn't Chegwidden going to convince his friend that he needed to take care of himself? At least some proper precautions were in order. "We can't afford to lose you, you know."

"Well, it is difficult without the bait, admittedly—"

"Hell, Nico, I know you have something to finish when we get back. Seems to me you were complaining about my timing?"

"You're not invited to the wedding, AJ," Careles muttered as he rose. "Francesca, yes; you, no. That reminds me. I should invite your ex-wife. Now then I'd really be dead between my daughter, yours, your ex-wife, and the good doctor, but it would be amusing for a while, wouldn't it?"

Chegwidden just shook his head. "You are certifiable, Lieutenant."

"The woman in question is a therapist. I wonder how that fits into things..."

"She'd kick your ass if she heard that," the admiral told him, opening the door. Webb shook his head as he watched them.

"What is wrong with you people? Do you really operate like this?"

"I wouldn't know," Mac said, grabbing her coat. "I'm a marine and a lawyer, not a doctor."

"Cute. Real cute."

* * *

><p>"You think this is him?"<p>

Mac looked over at Harm, not sure how to answer that. It seemed too soon, too fast, too easy. If that was the case, though, Osborne was baiting them, and the traps were already set to go off. Careles had looked a little better today than the night before, but he still was running on fumes and injuries, and while soldiers could overcome incredible odds, the man was still taking too many risks. Especially with something to come back to. "I don't know, Harm. It doesn't feel right."

"Maybe it isn't. Osborne could have found the tracker Careles planted, even with the security measures it supposedly has or maybe it was the list. Maybe our interest in those names—combined with whoever gave them to Careles in the first place—was enough to put Osborne on the same trail," Harm began, thinking aloud as they walked up to the fence. The plans had suggested this was a blind spot in the man's defenses, but the place was still a fortress, and they hadn't had much time to prepare for this.

Mac looked at Harm. "Do you think that Osborne doesn't know who his protector is and is looking for the same man?"

"I doubt it. He had to have something to hold over the man's head to keep himself alive, right?"

"Would you two stop chatting and get over the fence already? We don't have a lot of time here," Webb barked in their earpieces. Harm gave her a look, and Mac tried not to laugh. They had waited until they knew Osborne was gone, and she found it rather surprising that Webb was using Careles' time table, given the hostility between the two men.

Harm laced his fingers together, creating a foothold for her and boosting her up enough to let her scale the wall. She dropped down to the other side, waiting for signs of the other security. Harm dragged himself over, struggling a bit, and when she looked at him, he shrugged. "What? It's not like I had someone to help me over."

"Don't be a baby, squid."

"I'm not, jarhead."

"I'm not seeing any activity from any of the security guards. Looks like you have a straight path inside. Don't waste your time out there."

Harm gave Mac a look, and she nodded. "Webb, do you have any readings on _anything _at this point? Did we get here after Osborne had finished his work? Is anyone else even alive?"

Webb was quiet for a moment, checking the readings from his monitors and feeds. Harm started to move forward, and Mac went with him, watching for signs of activity. She didn't like this. She was getting the feeling that everyone here might already be dead, and if they were, she and Harm were walking into something they didn't want to be in the middle of.

"I'm not getting anything. They might be down or they might be gone or they might be dead. You seeing anything? Or anyone?"

"Not so far," Harm answered, getting close to the house. "The security system has definitely been bypassed, then? We've got no real way of knowing what's in here until we come across it."

"Pretty much. I can't give you anything from here. I'm seeing clear screens and no blips. Nothing on infrared—and that includes you. Meaning someone has tampered with the security system," Webb finished. "This could be a trap. Osborne may have led you right into it."

"Contact the admiral or Careles if you can," Mac said, reaching into her jacket for her gun. "We'll keep looking."

Harm took out his side arm, moving to check the first room. Mac waited. He drew back, shaking his head. "Still empty. I don't like this, Mac. We're not going to find anything good—and that's if something or someone doesn't find us first."

"This is a lot of people to kill, a lot of questions to answer," she began, but she didn't like it anymore than he did. "What do you think? Rigged gas main?"

"If it is, we don't have a lot of time."

"Then maybe you should both get out of there. We can call in a team equipped to deal with whatever's in there and whatever trap Osborne left behind—"

"Too late for that," Mac said as they reached the next room. She shook her head as she took in a sight that would haunt her for the rest of her life, even after everything she'd already seen and done. "You can notify the authorities, but Osborne is done here. He probably didn't do this on his own, but that doesn't matter. Everyone's dead."


	16. Escalation Across the Board

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,768  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: And a mix of light and dark this time, maybe really as always...

* * *

><p><strong>Escalation Across the Board<strong>

"I know that, sir, but you are _not _listening. No, I am listening, but you're not hearing me. I know what you're saying. I know why you're saying it. I know why you think it would be a good idea, but I am telling you, it's not going to work," Webb repeated, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He sounded very frustrated, and Harm almost pitied.

Almost.

"If Careles was unwilling to cooperate before, he will be only more unwilling to do so now. He is not going to change his mind," Webb almost shouted into the phone. Whoever was on the other end was an extremely bad listener. Or an idiot. Maybe both. After what Harm and Mac had seen inside that house, he knew there was no way that Careles would cooperate with the CIA—or that Osborne or his protector would live through this. They would both be dead by the time that it was all done, and no speech or appeal to morals or ethics would reach the admiral or his friend, not this time.

Harm himself had a hard time disagreeing with that, after seeing this. He knew that there were worse crimes, but both he and Mac had been shaken by seeing that room. It was hard to believe they were seeing a mass grave in the middle of New York. This kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen here. It wasn't supposed to be done by one of their own—though Osborne's true loyalties seemed extremely debatable. He didn't deserve to have been a part of their Navy or with the CIA, twisted as that agency was.

Looking over at Mac, Harm moved closer to her, touching her arm gently. "Hey."

She turned to him, forcing a smile. "We've seen a lot of horrible things in our time, haven't we?"

"Not quite like a bunch of bodies stacked in a room, left for the gas main to explode," Harm said, and she nodded. She was a tough marine, and she'd hate him for the natural male instinct that wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. She'd never accept that, though. Sarah Mackenzie was a marine. She rarely ever seemed willing to admit that she was a woman, and she'd kill anyone who thought she was part of the "weaker" sex.

"Wouldn't it have made more sense, if they were planning on covering it up with a gas leak, to leave all the bodies where they were? Why gather them up like that? It still looks like a mass murder, a mass grave, even with the gas main explodes," Mac said, shaking her head in confusion and disgust.

Harm took a deep breath. "I was thinking about it, actually. I think maybe they were left there as a lure. We were led right to that room, and if we'd stayed much longer, we would have been caught in that explosion."

She frowned. "So you're saying that we were supposed to die in there?"

"Not necessarily us, Mac. The admiral or Careles, maybe, or maybe it was us. Maybe the idea is to lead us down this wild goose chase so that we'll be picked off, one by one until Osborne has eliminated the people the admiral and Careles care about. Careles has most of his people out of Osborne's reach. He can't get to them. But he can get to us."

"And he picks us off one by one, eliminating the other man's rivals as well?" Mac finished. "It's not a bad scheme, really. It would be rather effective."

"We should move on to the next name on the list."

"You think someone gave Careles false leads?"

"No, I think they're probably real, but that's not going to stop Osborne from taking them out one by one. If he's smart, he go after the real one somewhere in the middle, and that one he will have one body missing, only we won't know it."

Mac nodded. "Makes sense. You think the admiral and Careles have figured this much out yet? Should we try and contact them?"

"The admiral's a smart man. Careles is pretty good, too. They might have figured it out, or they could be in trouble. We'll have to split up the rest of the list anyway."

"So we'll get Webb off the phone and call the admiral," Mac agreed quietly. She sighed. "How many more people are going to die before this thing is finally over? And what is it even for?"

"Greed, most likely," Harm muttered, looking over at Webb. The man was still busy arguing on the phone. They may as well interrupt him. He wasn't going to get anywhere. Careles would handle the situation—not for the CIA but to end it for himself and the people that mattered to him. He wouldn't handle it the way the CIA wanted it, either. Someone would die this time, and not at the agency's hand.

Mac shook her head angrily. She went to Webb's side and took the phone, ending the call. He stopped, frowning at her. "Major, what the hell did you do that for?"

"Because it was a waste of time. We already have the list of targets. We need to make contact with the admiral and Careles, and we need to find the rest of these people before Osborne does."

"That's your plan?"

"We'll explain on the way, Webb," Harm said, pulling him toward the van. Mac started to dial the admiral's number as they got back in the van. They had a lot of work to do, even if the list was not very long.

* * *

><p>"Did you think they'd be alive?"<p>

Nico shook his head. "Not really. It felt... too easy to get that name and location narrowed down. We know that Osborne and his associates will go after more of the names on that list—one of them will be the actual controller, but we won't know until all of them are dealt with and we're a body short."

"Come on, Nico," AJ objected, not liking the other man's tone. "Since when do we let them get away with pulling that crap? No one is getting away with this, not this time. The body count is already too high. It was too high before he killed the woman I loved, and it's only gotten worse."

"You could have called me then," Nico said quietly. "I would have dealt with him, and your people would never have been the wiser about it."

"Wasn't thinking clearly. If I'd have known it would end up like this, you can bet I would have," AJ agreed, though it was not an easy thing to ask of anyone. Soldiers in command were one thing. Nico was a civilian these days, even if AJ kept calling him by his rank and someone had recalled him to active duty. Nico had made a decision a long time ago to give up military service, to sever his ties with his crime family, and to make it so he never had to kill again. Asking Nico to deal with Osborne would have ruined all of that, but the man would have done it.

"It would have been worth it, preventing this. I don't care how many nightmares it would have reawakened or how many bottles I would have crawled into," Nico said. He shook his head. "He's here. He's watching. He's not making a move, though."

"Waiting for you to be alone, maybe."

"No, I think he's waiting to see what we do about the mess he left for Mackenzie and Rabb to find," Nico disagreed. "You should go, AJ. Take one of the other names on the list. Pull Roberts or Sims from the safe house or take one of my people. Osborne and I have a very long waiting game to play, and I don't have to be watched."

"I've come too far to let you get yourself killed now."

Nico laughed. "Dying is the easy way out of what's ahead of me when this is all over. I have to get that paternity issue settled, get my daughter back in rehab, deal with the woman that has worked her way into my life despite my best efforts, and if I survive either of them, I'll be lucky."

AJ nodded. "Still, nothing better to heal all wounds than the love of a good woman. You have it, Nico. Don't let it go."

"Oh, you've met her, AJ. You know there's not much I can do about that. She's too stubborn to let me go, and while I can be a real bastard, I don't think even I'm capable of hurting her enough to scare her off. She'll just kick my ass and make me pay for it."

"Best kind of woman to have. One that won't put up with your crap but still loves you. Makes you one hell of a better man."

"And will we ever find you one of those, AJ?"

"I don't know. Does Santino have a sister?" AJ joked. Nico's lips curved into a dangerous smile. AJ knew that look. He shook his head. "That was just a joke, Nico. Even if she had a sister—"

"She's got something better than a sister. A woman named Jeanette."

"Don't you dare."

"I think the situation would bring her back from Europe," Nico went on, enjoying this. After everyone's jokes, teasing, and comments at his expense, AJ would expect nothing less, but he didn't need a matchmaker. This was hardly the time for it. Nico was forced to acknowledge his feelings for the doctor based on what was going on around them, but this mess was not something to bring another civilian into, and certainly not because AJ was single when everyone around him seemed to be pairing up, not that it mattered if he was alone. He was fine on his own.

"Don't bother. We still haven't figured out who Osborne is working for or what the objective of all of this is. That comes first."

"Then I will make the call when this is over," Nico said, grinning. AJ shook his head. That phone call was never going to happen.

"We have to make it through this first, remember?"

"That's why you should take someone and go. You know I'll be fine."

"You just want me to leave so you can call this woman."

"I can call her at any time, AJ. I am trying to end this thing. We need more people working that list, and you know it."

AJ gave his friend a long look. He didn't like the idea of leaving Nico on his own. The man was bound to end up hurt—or worse—again. "Nico—"

"I will be fine."

"You'd better be, Lieutenant, or I will hunt you down in hell and kick your ass for this."

* * *

><p>"Oh, don't you think maybe I could have a few cookies? Just a couple? This is driving me crazy. I hate being shut in like this. And now that the admiral took Bud away, I don't have anyone to tease. Harriet's too much like you," Juliette moaned, hanging her head over the edge of the couch, kicking her feet in the air. Dani thought that was how she preferred to sit, upside down. Anything unusual or attention getting or maybe it was because it was uncomfortable. Juliette liked to be defiant in even small ways.<p>

"I don't think so," Dani said, reaching over to catch one of the girl's feet. She held it still for a moment, looking down at her. "You have had enough sugar to last you for days."

"I disagree. There is no such thing as too much sugar."

"There is," Dani told her. She had raised two kids—she knew what too much sugar was, and she was not exactly looking forward to another wave of Juliette on sugar. The girl was like other addicts, seeking something to replace what they'd been hooked on—that or anything they could do to get their minds off the cravings. It was classic replacement, and sugar wasn't all that uncommon. Shopping or gambling, those were also common. And overeating. "You're not having any more today."

"I think we should do something positive to get everyone's mind off the situation," Harriet began, walking back into the room. She balanced a tray in her hands, a pitcher of ice tea and three glasses—no sugar.

Juliette sighed in disappointment, but Dani smiled in gratitude. Not much got past Harriet, either. And that thing with the tray was no mean feat, either, Dani thought as she picked up the full pitcher and started pouring a glass. "Nice work. Thank you for this, Harriet."

"Not a problem. I'm used to it. Public affairs officer for the _Sea Hawk, _but before that, debutante."

"And then you joined the navy?" Juliette asked, intrigued. She put her feet down and sat up properly. "Really? Why? Doesn't that mean that you're... loaded?"

"Honey, you and I are both living proof that money does not buy happiness," Harriet reminded her. Juliette made a face, and Harriet sighed. "I love my family. I know I am very lucky. I just don't—I wanted my life to mean more than parties and expensive things and my mother."

"I think, Juliette, if you had an interest to pursue, a career or a hobby, that you'd get a lot more enjoyment out of life," Dani added, handing her a glass of tea. The caffeine could become a problem, but hopefully not for a while. "Have you given any thought to that at all?"

"I was supposed to go to college and everything just because it's what you do. I didn't like it, didn't find a major or anything. It was just something I did, and I never really showed up for class. They gave me a few causes to support when I was younger. They wanted me to look like a person who cared about something other than money, even if they didn't. I was no good at it," Juliette said, shrugging. "I don't know. I'm definitely not joining the navy, I can tell you that much."

Harriet smiled. "It's not for everyone, but I like what I do."

"Maybe I'll just go on annoying Nico. That's enough for now, right?"

"Nico cares about you a lot," Dani began, knowing that even if the man didn't want to show it, he had. He took care of that girl, maybe even too much. "Still, that's not really a direction for your life to go. You need something to focus on, a goal to keep striving for even after you've managed to get past rehab. That's a starting place, not an end, to that journey. It is something you will fight for the rest of your life."

"I don't know. I've never really given it much thought. I didn't have to do anything before, and it seemed like as soon as I enjoyed something, my parents did something to ruin it. Nico's the only thing that's been constant in my life, sad as that is."

"He might be your father," Harriet pointed out. "I swear, sometimes, if I didn't have my father, I never would have survived my mother. I say that loving her, but she is... She can be very difficult. My dad... He made it worth it."

Juliette smiled a little. "Yeah, that's kind of what Nico did for me."

"Why don't we take some time to figure out things that might interest you? I think Nico said that Chegwidden's daughter had a connection to the fashion world, so you could spend some time with her to see if any of that—" Dani broke off as she heard a loud thump out in the hallway, like something or someone had fallen. Harriet reached for her bag and took out her gun, making Juliette's eyes widen.

"Back into the bedroom," Harriet said, looking a bit nervous as she rose. Dani hesitated, but the other woman nodded with more conviction the second time around. "This could be a false alarm, but if it isn't, I need to be between you and what might be about to come in that door."

"Harriet," Dani began as she got Juliette up and on her feet, pushing her toward the back of the apartment. "You—"

"I am a commissioned officer in the United States Navy, Doctor. I don't doubt that you can take of yourself, so don't doubt me," Harriet insisted as the door broke open. Dani shoved Juliette behind her as the men entered the room.

Harriet fired.


	17. Mayhem Everywhere

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,531  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: And... pretty much as labeled. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Mayhem<strong>

"AJ."

"If you called to tell me that you got yourself hurt again, and if this is any kind of a goodbye—"

"I know. You'll follow me to hell and make me pay," Nico interrupted, and AJ stopped, not liking the other man's tone. He held up a hand to signal Roberts to stop. The younger man looked almost relieved. Charging into the latest compound to rescue another name on the list wasn't something that Roberts felt up to—no matter what his training or who he was with. That probably had to do a lot more with who he'd left behind.

"What is it?"

"Lost the sense that Osborne was watching me. More convinced this is a distraction. A feint. I think... Go after Francesca, AJ. I think he's making a move on our people."

"You sure about that?" Chegwidden demanded, his chest tightening at the idea of his daughter being in real danger. If anything happened to her, he would make sure that everyone paid. Everyone. He would find them, hunt them down, and kill every last one of them. He didn't care about principles or honor. That was his daughter. His blood. He'd already lost enough without losing Francesca.

"Best guess," Nico answered, hanging up, and that was enough for AJ. Nico's best guess was usually dead on, only failing on a few occasions, and now was not one of those times. AJ just hoped that he'd changed his mind in time, that they still had enough time to get to Francesca.

"We have to go," Chegwidden said, putting the phone away. Roberts stared at him, unsure how to react. "You already told the security team, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I thought we were going in to take care of people. We're not? Okay. So... what, then?" Roberts asked nervously. He frowned. "What did Careles say? Is it bad? How bad? Will Harriet be okay? I knew I shouldn't have left..."

"Lieutenant," Chegwidden snapped, pulling the younger man with him as he headed toward the car. He needed to get to his daughter right away. He was sure of that. He would calm Roberts down on the way. "Nico is convinced that Osborne and his teams are making a play for our people. That means we are going to go get my daughter and make sure that she's safe."

"Sir, if I may—what about Harriet? Doctor Santino? Juliette? Harriet?"

"She'll be fine, Lieutenant," AJ insisted, trying to ignore the guilt he felt immediately after saying that. He had no guarantees where that young woman was concerned, and he couldn't tell Roberts that, not without lying a bit. Was it right to leave Sims in harm's way and go after his daughter? Chegwidden was supposed to put his own feelings aside, supposed to make the impartial choice. "Nico is on his way there, and there are a lot of men between them and Osborne.

"Yes, sir," Roberts agreed halfheartedly, not nearly as certain as AJ's words had seemed a minute before. Chegwidden couldn't blame him, but he was going to have to trust that Nico and his people would keep the others safe.

AJ got behind the wheel, letting Roberts get in on the other side. The younger man put on his seat belt as Chegwidden sped out of the driveway. He had to get to his daughter. After that, he needed to back up Nico at the safe house. "Call Rabb and Mackenzie. Nico would have warned them as well, but we need to talk to them."

"Can't we call Harriet?" Roberts almost whined. "Shouldn't we have done that first?"

"Call Sims, too," AJ told him, though now that he thought about it, he was convinced that Nico already had—and the situation there was not good, a fact that Nico had conveniently left out of his warning to Chegwidden. AJ pushed down on the gas, speeding up further. At least they didn't have to go into the city center. He would not have been responsible for his actions with anymore traffic blocking him from getting to his daughter. Now was not a time for a gridlock.

"There's no answer, sir," Roberts began, looking down at his phone. "Sir—"

"We're almost there, and then we'll go straight to Sims. I promise you that."

"Yes, sir."

"Call Mackenzie and Rabb, too."

"Yes, sir," Roberts said, still in a worried daze. Chegwidden would have to snap him out of it, but that would wait. Let him have a few minutes to get the panic out of his system. He would need to be focused in a minute. "Sir? No answer there, either."

"Damn it."

* * *

><p>"I don't like this," Webb said. "We should let the CIA handle the rest of this."<p>

"I don't think so, Webb. Someone in your organization compromised this whole operation and put a lot of good people's lives at risk," Harm disagreed. Mac sighed. The last thing they needed was to fight about this, not right now.

Her phone rang, and she moved away from the still arguing boys to answer it. "Mackenzie."

"Major, I need you to stop whatever you're doing and get to the safe house where Santino's children and mother are. Immediately. This cannot wait," Careles began, and even though she probably could have argued with him, she wasn't going to. She needed more information, but the urgency was clear. Careles was worried.

She looked back at Harm and Webb and frowned. They weren't going to be convinced easily. Both of them were so damn stubborn. "What's going on?"

"I said I had about two hours of distracting Osborne—but he's been distracting us. The list and killing people on it—that's not what he really wants. Maybe it's what his protector wants, but Osborne would rather settle a bunch of old grudges. He's going to do this his way. The others will deal with the names on the list. He's going for Santino—but he'll hit everyone else if he can. I sent AJ to his daughter, but I need someone on the rest of the Santino family."

Mac nodded. She agreed with his assessment. "And Santino? What about her and your daughter? Are you sure you don't want us there?"

"If you can split your group, that's one thing, but someone is going to the Santino children."

Careles hung up, and Mac shook her head. She didn't think he was thinking this through all the way. The man was _not _really planning on going into rescue the others completely on his own, did he? That was a bad plan. It would never work. "Webb. Harm. Change of plans."

"Oh, what now?" Webb demanded.

"Careles says Osborne is going after our people. We need to get to the Santino children—and someone needs to go after Santino and Juliette, too, because I think he was planning on doing that alone, and while we all know he's supposed to be good, he shouldn't have that to himself," Mac said, looking at the two men. "How do we want to split this?"

"Webb should go to the kids. If he shows up where Careles is, it won't be a help to anyone."

"Same with you two going together, huh?" Mac asked, and the boys exchanged a look, both of them giving her a slight shrug. She knew that they could get along, could work together, but sometimes it was like watching children or wild animals. "We don't have much time to debate this choice."

"What about the admiral? I thought he was with him."

"Careles said he sent Chegwidden after his daughter."

"Makes sense," Harm agreed. He took a moment to think. "What about the list? They're still going after those targets, aren't they?"

"Them and our people. This is one hell of a mess."

"Our people have to be our priority," Harm said. "Webb, looks like you get what you wanted. You can let the CIA handle the rest of this. We'll go after the Santinos."

Webb looked toward the house doubtfully. "We're talking someone with a lot of pull and a lot of loyalty to get teams to do this kind of work, this fast, with these many casualties..."

"Whoever let Osborne free is having a good laugh at all of our expense, and people are dying because of it," Mac shook her head. It pissed her off, and if she got her hands on that man, there was no telling what she would do. "Osborne should never have been free in the first place, but the lengths that he's been able to go to... We need the man who did this, but we might not get him."

"This takes a lot of coordination and planning and most likely, someone on the inside," Harm muttered, annoyed. He took out the keys. "We're going. Now."

The ground shook, and Mac turned, just in time to see the estate behind them erupt almost like a volcano, covering the sky in smoke and hurling flaming debris through the air as the building burned. She felt another tremor and was thrown to the ground as something hit her in the back.

* * *

><p>"What are we going to do?" Juliette asked, none of her usual bravado in her voice. Dani had to figure that the situation hadn't been real for her, not until right now, with shots being fired in the other room and men breaking in. She hadn't really believed her life was in danger before, and now there was no denying it.<p>

"Push the bed in front of the door and get behind it," Dani said, fighting her own panic to think with a clear head. She didn't like leaving Harriet behind, and she didn't like knowing what Harriet had been forced to do to save them. This might not even work.

She threw her efforts into pushing the bed, joining Juliette on the other side and pushing it forward, trying to make it close off the door as much as possible. She was aware that they were blocking Harriet out, trapping her with the men, but Dani had the feeling that if Harriet couldn't handle what was already out there, it wouldn't matter.

The thought made her wince. Juliette grabbed Dani's arm. "It's going to be okay, right? We're due a last minute save or something. We have to be. It's Nico, and Nico knows everything, and he'll come for us."

_If he wasn't already dead or injured again,_ Dani couldn't help thinking. There had to be some kind of way out of this situation, something that she and Juliette could do instead of waiting for a rescue that might not come. They were up high enough to where there was no way they could use the window to escape. The balcony was outside the other room, not this one, and even making a rope out of sheets, they probably wouldn't make it to the floor below.

Still, it had to be the only option that they had at the moment. She couldn't think of anything else. "Grab the sheets."

"Are you kidding? That only works in movies."

"Do you hear any more gunfire? Harriet could be dead out there, and we don't have anything else at the moment, so move," Dani ordered, reaching for some of the sheets herself. She didn't like her plan anymore than Juliette did, but at least it gave them something to do.

The door banged against the bed, and Juliette let out a scream. She covered her own mouth and fought tears as she went back to her work with the sheets. Dani touched her arm, trying to calm her even as the bed was bombarded from the other side. That wasn't even as bad as when the bullets started impacting the door. The men had silencers, and Dani was worried about Harriet.

The wood finally splintered, and she wrapped her arms around Juliette as the first man made his way into the room. Juliette leaned over and grabbed the lamp, yanking out the cord before passing it to Dani, and she threw it at him, getting him to cry out and double over.

Another man shoved him out of the way, a cruel smile on his face. "So we finally meet, Doctor. And young Juliette. How good to see both of you. The last two things that Nico Careles cares about. He thought he could keep you from me. That was a mistake."

Juliette bit her lip, and Dani held onto her as she faced the man. "So, you're Osborne. I'm not impressed."

"Everyone in this building is dead besides you and that girl. You'll join them, of course, but not until I've made sure that you have suffered a little," Osborne went on. "It wouldn't be complete if he didn't get to know that you had felt your death."

"I think we'll pass," Dani said, backing up a little. She needed something that she could use as a weapon. The room didn't have much in it, unfortunately. Maybe the sheets they'd tangled up could be a sort of noose, but that wasn't going to work all that well, and he _did _have a gun. "Besides, I can already tell you that you made a mistake."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, first, you hurt Harriet, and that makes me very angry," she began, only getting laughter out of the sick bastard. "But if you really want to know what you did wrong... You left Nico alive so that he could hear about our deaths before he died. That means he can still stop you. And he _will _kill you, one way or another."

"I should think that you wouldn't be so proud of that. Shouldn't it bother you, the idea of him killing someone?"

"After all the people you've killed, not really."

She heard a small ping and pushed Juliette down, and then something stung her shoulder, and she covered Juliette's body with hers as the gun went off again. Nothing hit them. After a moment, Dani lifted her head, trying not to whimper as she saw someone moving across the bed.

He crawled close to her, letting out a small curse as he stopped, looking at her arm. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd started holding. "Nico. Is... I... Harriet?"

"She's all right," Nico told her, and Dani let out a breath in relief. Really? Harriet was okay? After the gunfire stopped, it had been easy to assume the worst. "Knocked cold, but it could have been a lot worse."

Dani smiled gratefully, hugging him. Her hands slipped on his shirt, and realized that it was wet, and there could only really be one thing covering him—blood. "You're hurt again, aren't you?"

"Not all of it's mine," he answered quietly. "What I do might be quiet, but that doesn't mean it's not messy, though."

"Let me look."

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

Juliette pulled herself out of Dani's arms and wrapped herself around Nico. "I don't care what any tests say. You _are _my father."

He smiled tiredly, and Dani leaned against him, letting the adrenaline wear off. "Thank you for coming for us, Nico."

"Should have been here sooner."

"Don't start that now."


	18. Almost Wrapped Up

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 3,275  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Okay, definitely going down the Dani/Nico route, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Not sure about the Harm/Mac angle yet. But Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Again, as the title describes. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Almost Wrapped Up<strong>

"Papa, you are bleeding," Francesca chided, putting her hand up to AJ's head, touching the cut he'd gotten on his way into her. She seemed none the worse for what she'd been through, not that they'd reached her yet, but they'd still been too damn close for his comfort. He wrapped his arm around her gratefully, once again thanking Nico's instincts for being what they were—right and just in time, too. "What is the matter?"

"Just afraid I might lose you," he admitted, tightening his hold. She laughed a little, and he shook his head. If she'd seen what was coming for her, she would feel differently. "Need you to come with me now. Promised the lieutenant there we'd go back for his girl the minute I knew you were safe, and that's what we're going to do."

"Papa, must I—"

"Please," Roberts broke in. "I'm really worried about Harriet, and you really were in danger, and we were just in time, but if we aren't in time for Harriet, then... I don't know what I'll do. _Please."_

Francesca frowned as she looked at him, and AJ led her toward the door, past the men who had been watching out for her. She gave a small gasp when she saw the ones that had fallen outside the door. "What... What has happened?"

"They're unconscious, and ambulances are on their way," Roberts told her, glossing over part of it. AJ knew that he'd killed at least one of the men he'd fought. It hadn't been his intention, and he knew he'd answer for it, but there was no way that he would have let them get close to his daughter and there were already men from Nico's teams lying dead. It was as justified as it could get, even if no one else saw it that way.

"I did not realize_—Mi dispiace,_ Papa. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive," AJ insisted. "I didn't really want you knowing how bad the situation was, and it's my fault for not warning you properly."

She nodded, leaning against him. He led her along, knowing that none of this was good. He knew that people would have a lot of questions, not just for AJ but for everyone involved, and they didn't even have the man that Osborne was working for, not yet. Roberts was quiet, still worried.

"Call the others. See if you can get through this time."

Roberts nodded. He reached for the phone, using the speed dial as they used the elevator to go down to the ground floor. "Still nothing from Commander Rabb or the major."

AJ didn't like the sound of that. He dug out his own phone, pushing a button. "Be there, Lieutenant, or I'm kicking your ass."

The call connected on the third ring. "No need to follow me to hell yet."

AJ shook his head. "We'll see about that. Sitrep?"

"Things were bad here, lost more good people," Nico admitted, sounding tired. "Sims performed admirably, though, and I'd promote her if I were you—or give her one of those medals they love giving. Tell Roberts she's... Well, fine would be a stretch, but she's not dead."

"How bad?"

"A concussion and a few bruises, not as bad as it could have been. I figure they thought she was dead and didn't bother checking. She wasn't one of the ones that Osborne really wanted, and if she'd woken up, he would have gone after her."

"Santino and Juliette?"

"Alive and well, one flesh wound."

"You?"

"More of their blood on me than mine," Nico answered, avoiding the question, as usual. "Francesca?"

"They were close, but she's fine. Can't get Rabb or Mackenzie, though."

"_Maledizione," _Nico muttered on the other end. "I tried to send them to the other safe house. Roberts will want to know that Sims is all right. Let me get her on the phone, and then maybe you can go by there and tell me what the situation is. I am... stuck at the moment."

"Stuck?"

"Three women have threatened to tie me up if I even think about moving, and two of them haven't let go of me since got here," Nico said, causing AJ to laugh. He knew the other man was probably grumbling about that, but Nico was probably happier about it than he'd admit. It was a funny image nonetheless. "Here. Sims for Roberts."

AJ passed the other man the phone. Roberts immediately started in. "Harriet? Oh, thank goodness. I'm so glad to hear your voice. I've been so worried. I didn't even—What? You... Oh. Oh, wow. You... I..."

Roberts was too distracted to notice anything else as they got in the car. Francesca smiled warmly as she sat down in the front, listening to Roberts' half of the conversation as AJ started the car and drove them toward the safe house where Nico had put Santino's children. Mackenzie and Rabb... They could handle themselves.

And if they didn't... Then AJ would track _them _down in hell.

* * *

><p>"Webb? The hell are you doing here?"<p>

"Nice to see you, too, Admiral," Webb muttered, frowning a little as he took in the sight of the admiral's daughter. Bud had a feeling this was only going to get more awkward as this went on. He really wished that he could just go to Harriet already. He'd spoken to her on the phone, but he was still worried. She didn't sound like herself. "I came here to take care of the Santino children."

"You did? Why you?"

"After the explosion at the house where Rabb, Mackenzie, and I were, they sent me on ahead. It was a decision we had been discussing before everything went to hell there, and afterward, I was the obvious choice," Webb answered, rubbing at his shoulder a little. "I got a few bruises from 'hitting the deck' as you might phrase it. I'm fine, by the way. I can see you saw a bit of action yourself."

"They got close to my daughter. Made me very angry."

"I don't doubt it. What happened to Careles? Thought you were with him."

"I was, for a while," Chegwidden agreed, looking past Webb at the older woman with her arms around the two teenagers. Neither of them looked all that much like Santino, but there was the father to figure into that. "Are they ready to move?"

"Yes. They would like to see their mother, however, none of them actually trust me, so I'm not sure that they're _willing _to move, even if they are able to."

Bud looked at them. "Perhaps you should call Nico, sir. He could let Santino talk to her children, and I think that would help."

The admiral pushed a button and gave Bud the phone, and he frowned nervously as it rang. As soon as he heard what sounded like the click of someone picking up, he started talking. "Uh, this isn't the admiral. It's Bud. Bud Roberts, Jr, and I—"

"Relax, Bud. I was told you'd be giving the phone to my children—or my mother. Any of them is fine," Santino said on the other end of the line. Bud blinked, wondering how Careles could possibly have known that. He didn't understand, unless maybe Careles knew that the admiral would not have called if things were bad, but that wasn't really much of a—maybe he'd talked to someone else here already. That could be it.

"Yes, ma'am. Er, Dani," Bud agreed, offering the phone to the three of them. The girl got to it first.

"Mom? What is going on? Some really big men took us from the house and locked us up, and then there was some shooting right out of one of those movies, but the men here said it was fine, and Xeno tried to tell us everything was okay, but where have you been and what is going on and why are we with Xeno again? Why can't we—You're sure? It's over? And the bald guy and the fat one are here to take us to you? Not sure what the model is doing here, but what about the slimey one in the suit?"

Bud looked down at his stomach. Was he really that fat? He didn't think so, but he hadn't had a physical in a while, and that might be an issue. He'd have to ask Harriet. She would be honest about it, but gentler than the admiral if he asked him.

"Okay, okay, here's Ray Jay," the girl said, giving him the phone. The older woman didn't seem all that happy about it, and Bud figured that Santino was going to hear from her mother when they got them all in the same room, but that was really only to be expected.

Bud forced a smile. "We should probably get in the car. I'm sure you want to see your mother. And Careles. And maybe Juliette. I want to see Harriet. I _need _to see Harriet."

"I'm not sure who Juliette is, or this Harriet, and I only think I know that Careles is the creepy guy who runs security for the Hawks, but okay, fine, whatever. I want to see my mom," the girl said, moving toward the car.

"Oh, boy," Bud muttered, watching her. She was going to be in for a bit of a surprise when she got to the safe house, then. Careles was a lot more than the head of security to Santino, and he had a daughter to throw in the mix. This could be very bad. Ugly and unpleasant. Maybe he could go somewhere private with Harriet instead.

He went back to the admiral and Francesca. "Do you think we should be the ones driving them?"

"As long as they get to the safe house, it won't matter."

"Okay."

"Spit it out, Lieutenant."

"Well, it's just that the children don't seem to be aware of the situation between their mother and Mr. Careles, sir, and I have a feeling that's going to be a bit of a problem when we get back to the safe house," Bud admitted.

To his surprise, though, the admiral just laughed.

* * *

><p>This place would get very crowded very soon, Nico thought, and he knew that he did not want to stay here for that. He needed to get out before that happened, though with Juliette still wrapped around him, Danielle leaning against him, and Sims watching when she was awake, it was not going to be easy to escape. There were people who should get medical attention, and many other things to do to completely resolve this. Just because Osborne was no longer an issue did not mean that it was all over.<p>

He tried to get up again, and they yanked him back down. "No moving."

"You can't keep me here forever. We have much to do," he told them, getting dark looks from both of them. "People need help, remember?"

"You already called ambulances. You wouldn't have left all of those people injured without making sure they were getting treatment, even if you were in a hurry to get to us," the doctor insisted. "You just want to escape before my family gets here, don't you?"

"I am not intimidated by your mother or your children," he disagreed. He was not fond of crowds, and he knew this was not done. Let them have their reunion. He had things to clean up, and that was a job that he knew very well. "There will be a lot of questions when the authorities arrive."

"Or you could allow my people to handle that."

Nico looked at Webb and shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Mom?" Lindsay exchanged a look with her brother, and the boy shrugged a little. Nico nudged Santino's shoulder. She should go to her kids and mother. There would be a lot of discussion going on, explanations to be given, and it was past time that some of the trash was dealt with. "Mom, what is going on here?"

"Well, only a little while ago, Nico saved our lives," Santino began, getting to her feet. She touched her arm where she'd been clipped, wincing a little. "This could have been a lot worse, but it's over now."

Nico knew it wasn't, but he didn't say anything, not now. The worst part of it was, and Osborne's protector, his puppet master, he would be expecting everyone to believe that it ended with Osborne when it had not. He sighed and slipped out from underneath Juliette, picking her up with a grunt and taking her into the bedroom that had not been destroyed. She could continue to rest there.

He stopped for a moment, trying to ease the various aches. This past week had definitely taken its toll on him, and he would need time to deal with that, too.

"Thought I told you not to die."

"I told you the blood wasn't all mine," Nico countered, turning around to face Chegwidden. "Osborne's, actually. Beat you to him."

"I knew there was a reason you sent me after Francesca," AJ joked a little. "Saw Santino for myself, thought I'd make sure the girl was all right."

"She is. Just finally worn out between the sugar and the stress of the afternoon," Nico said, taking another look at Juliette. He had very nearly been too late. She might have been better off if he'd left her in rehab, since one of them must have led Osborne to this safe house or the others. It should not have been compromised like this. "We still have work to do."

"The CIA is all over this."

"The CIA _started_ this. Maybe not with the full consent of all of its members and not with their knowledge, but this is their mess, and I don't trust them."

"Neither do I, but it might be good to take a step back, watch the dirt settle, and see who profited from all of this. That answer is going to get us the one that we really need to find. The one who is going to pay for this."

"I suppose since I got to kill Osborne, you get that one."

AJ almost smiled. "That's almost fair. Let her sleep. The situation with Santino's family should have died down by now. Come back out with the others for a while. Oh, and change the shirt, Lieutenant."

Nico shook his head, letting the other man leave before he went to the closet and took out a suitable replacement for the shirt that was now covered in blood. As he did, he stopped to examine his latest wound, dismissing it as a minor nuisance. It was no longer bleeding, and that was enough for him. He would find a way out of the gathering in the other room, and then he would finish this.

He returned to the front room, aware of all the eyes on him. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, uh..." Lindsay began, but her brother elbowed her.

"So Mom says you're like a... hero. That you snuck up and saved the day."

"I'm an assassin, kid, and I did what I was trained to do," Nico disagreed, moving toward the back of the room. He saw Sims cradled in Roberts' arms, and he knew that the woman would have a hard time getting him to let her out of his sight again—if he ever let her out of his arms.

"Nico," Santino began in warning. "Stop trying to scare my children. You were a soldier—and yes, you did complete missions that asked you to kill, to assassinate. I am not denying that. But what you did for us today was _not _an assassination. It was a rescue."

Nico forced a smile. She didn't understand. Just because he had done it to save her life didn't mean that he hadn't been thinking about doing it for years. He did _not _have to kill Osborne—he could have disabled him instead, but Nico had not been willing to let him live. The threat to Santino and Juliette would excuse him in the minds of most people, but he was not a hero.

"The man couldn't take a compliment if it bit him in the ass, Doctor," AJ said, shaking his head. "Should have seen his face at the medal ceremony. That was something else."

"Don't start with that, AJ. I didn't want the damn medal, and you were willing to help me use it for target practice."

"Is that what you do with purple hearts these days?" Rabb asked as he walked in the door, assisted by Mackenzie.

"Lay off, Squid. They won't give you one," she said, shaking her head. "Most of my bruises are from _you. _No one asked you to cover me."

"Hey, marines are good at ducking for cover," Rabb teased, some private joke passing between the two of them, and Nico gave AJ a pointed look. The other man nodded, resigned. Mackenzie sat down beside Rabb, and he gave her a warm smile before looking around the room. "Guess we didn't do too bad, then."

Nico shrugged. "I don't have an official count yet, but someone will have to answer for all of this. Good men—and women—were injured and died because of someone's games, and that is not going to continue."

"But that is going to wait until you've had a chance to rest," Santino said, taking his arm and pulling him toward the couch. He tried to get free, but AJ gave him a helpful shove in the direction she was taking him. She pushed him onto the seat near the end, giving him the arm rest, and seating herself in the place next to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and wrapped her other arm around her son. Her daughter gaped at her, and Danielle pointedly ignored it.

"Oh, it is sweet," Francesca commented. _"Zio _Nico, how glad I am to see you like this."

"I don't have to let you into the fashion shows in New York," he warned, but she smiled serenely and turned her attention on Webb, giving him a look that caused AJ to scowl darkly.

"Okay, _what _is going on here?" a voice demanded from the doorway. "You would not believe what I had to go through to get into this place. So what exactly happened here and what is with all the emergency services vehicles out there?"

"Jeanette?" Santino asked, getting up and crossing the room to her, hugging her best friend close. "How? Why? You're here. This is..."

"Thank the man in black over there for that. I get a call out of the blue, says you need me, that I should drop everything because it's an emergency, and I did. I got on the first plane I could, and here I am."

"You didn't have to do this," Santino began. "I love you for it, but I'm okay."

"What's that on your arm?"

Santino looked down at the wound. "It's over now, really. You're here just in time for the big reunion."

"Perfect. This is just what I need. I was kind of hoping someone would give me a reason to come back home. You have no idea how much I missed you," Balzarini said, looking around Santino to Nico. "Thank you for the call."

She whispered something in Santino's ear that made her laugh, and she turned around. "AJ Chegwidden, I'd like you to meet my friend, Jeanette Balzarini."

The look AJ gave Nico then would have sent anyone currently serving under him for cover, but Nico just smiled back at him.


	19. Controlled Chaos

**Certain Methods  
><strong>**Word Count**: 2,085  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>PairingCharacters**: Definitely Dani/Nico, definitely some Harriet/Bud. Hints at Harm/Mac. Chegwidden features heavily/centrally to the story, too. Add Jeanette to that, and there might be something else, but that interpretation is open, too.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Although I reference something from 1x12, I'm actually going to set this after 1x10 for Necessary Roughness. For JAG? Um... season two, definitely related to that season. Specifically "Secrets" and "Ghosts," and a lot of this won't make sense if you don't know those eps. Otherwise, the spoilers/timeline from JAG is kind of... vague.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Direct, indirect. Legal, illegal. Military, Civilian. Every person has a different method for handling situations. Some are better than others.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: The last bit of wrap up, then, just as chaotic as ever. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Controlled Chaos<strong>

"Welcome back, Mr. Careles," Marcie greeted him as he walked in the door. "It is good to see you again."

"How was your wilderness adventure?" he asked, removing his scarf.

"Good. My brothers are still crazy, though. How many tonight?" she asked, looking past him to the rest of their car group. Santino had insisted on coming with him, and that meant her children, who had spent most of the car trip arguing with Juliette, who now insisted that she was changing her name to Careles regardless of the paternity results. It had been a long trip.

"Thirteen," Nico answered. Rabb, Mackenzie, Roberts, Sims, Francesca, Santino, Lindsay, Ray Jay, AJ, Juliette, Balzarini, Webb, and Nico himself. "Though I expect some of them will be quite late."

"Of course," Marcie agreed. "Good to have you with us again, Ms. Pittman."

"It's Careles," Juliette corrected. Marcie blinked, and she laughed. "Don't worry. He's going to marry Doctor Santino. He's my father."

"Juliette—"

"I adopted you whether you like it or not," she insisted, not backing down. He gave her a look, but she smiled, ignoring him. He shook his head, but Marcie was back to smiling. "Of course, that makes me stuck with those two, and they can't seem to get over the fact that their mom is in love with him. I think it's easy to see why she would be, don't you?"

Marcie nodded. "Yes."

"Juliette—"

"I should tell you that the general said if I broke up with my boyfriend again, I should marry you," Marcie added, still smiling brightly.

Santino laughed, and Nico shook his head. At least Chegwidden was not here to hear any of this. AJ did not need to know about it, though he would definitely end up hearing later, Nico was certain of that.

"See? There are people in this world that appreciate you for who you are and realize that you are worth a lot more than you think," Santino told him, stepping up so that she could kiss him. He held her for a moment, trying to ignore the rest of them. Her children, he knew, still needed to adjust to presence in their lives, and Juliette was enjoying all of it. Marcie, too, was probably amused.

"I guess that's one way to wait for our table," Rabb remarked as he and Mackenzie came up to them. Santino backed away, blushing a little.

"Don't get any ideas, Squid."

"Oh, he already has them," Juliette said, rolling her eyes. Mackenzie looked at her. "Come on. Everyone knows. Like everyone knew about the two of them and about her friend and Uncle AJ."

"I'm not sure the admiral shares your assessment, Ms. Pittman."

"Juliette. And I'm going with Careles now. I don't need a test. He's my father," she repeated, and Nico shook his head before turning to Marcie.

"Perhaps we should get the table now."

"We're setting up the special occasion room for you," Marcie answered. "We'll need a few more minutes, and that gives the rest of your party time to arrive."

"Oh, good, we're not late," Roberts said as he and Sims came in, looking rushed and a bit disheveled. Juliette grinned, nudging Danielle, and the doctor smiled back. Nico was ready for this dinner to be over, and it had not even started. There were too many people, too many relationships, and too much... emotion going around already. It was far too crowded. "I'm glad we didn't miss anything."

"Just a lot of conversation."

"And a kiss."

"But not between Rabb and Mackenzie, and I think some people might have wanted to see that," Juliette added. Roberts' eyes almost popped out of his head.

Sims patted his chest. "Breathe, honey. Breathe."

"It's just—Never mind. I didn't—I'm fine. I should be worried about you. No, not worried. You're okay. The doctor said so. I need to take care of you."

"Oh, Bud, I love you, but I'm fine. I promise."

"Harriet, you had to shoot someone. Even if the concussion is gone, I—I want to be there for you after something like that. I wish I could have made it so that you never had to do anything like that, but I will be here for you. I promise."

"I know," she agreed, touching his cheek. "And that is so sweet. I love that. I love you."

Sims kissed him, and the others smiled and cheered. Nico looked away, watching as Francesca came through the door. Her father would not be pleased with her choice of dinner companion, though. She had come in with Webb. Her interest in that man was, Nico had to hope, mostly a way of annoying her father—and by extension, Nico.

"Webb."

"Careles."

"Your company has finished sweeping this under the rug, have they?" Nico asked, watching Webb squirm a little.

Francesca touched his arm. "Do not fight now. There is no need, is there? We are all alive, and that is good, no? _S__ì__, es buono__. _We are here to celebrate, not to argue. We are alive, and the good has won, has it not? Now, where is Papa? I must see him. He is not avoiding the woman, is he?"

"Oh, he had better not be," Balzarini said as she joined them. "It's been a while since I scared a boy away that quickly, and I didn't think your father was the type."

"He is not," Francesca immediately began. _"Zio, _where is Papa?"

"Finishing this," Nico sincerely hoped. He turned to Marcie again. She nodded, gesturing for them to follow her. Finally. This had taken long enough already. He was not going to sit through the entire meal. He could guarantee that at this point.

"Wow," Sims said as she stepped into the special occasion room. "This is... wonderful."

"Looks like someone should be getting married. Hey, Nico—"

"I would not continue that if I were you," Nico warned, turning toward the speaker, and he saw someone duck behind Rabb. The commander would not be enough to hide Nico's "daughter" forever. He would deal with Juliette later. She was not going to get away with that comment.

"This is satisfactory, then?" Marcie asked, and Nico nodded. "A couple bottles of the house red wines, then? Or something special tonight? This almost looks like a bourbon night."

"It almost feels like one," Nico agreed tiredly, letting the others find their seats.

* * *

><p>"You're with Mr. Careles again, aren't you?"<p>

AJ nodded to the girl who met him at the door. "I am. Good to see that you were able to repair the damage to your property?"

"Oh, the parking lot? It wasn't as bad as anyone thought. A very controlled burn, or so my brothers kept saying," Marcie said with a shrug. "We have you back in our special events room. It will be a lot quieter than the main dining room, and that should be nicer for you with as large of a group as you have tonight."

"Good plan. Everyone else is here?"

"Mr. Careles arrived first, but you seem to be the last one, yes," Marcie agreed as she led him past the main dining floor and into the back where the room was. She opened the door and AJ saw that everyone was there, as she'd said. "Here you are. If you would like something besides the house wine, please let me know."

"Ooh, ooh, Marcie, before you go," Juliette cried, getting out of her seat and rushing over to the girl. "This room is great, but I have to wonder, can you do even larger receptions? Like... a double or triple wedding? Maybe more than that..."

"We can handle anything," Marcie told her with a smile. AJ saw Nico gripping his knife like just might kill someone and shook his shoulder as he went to sit in the empty chair beside him.

"At ease, Lieutenant."

Nico smiled darkly before nodding to Balzarini. "It wasn't just me she was talking about, AJ."

Balzarini lifted her glass to AJ, and then leaned over to whisper. "Just so you know, I think we're engaged. If it's any consolation, I can make it worth your while."

AJ shook his head and looked back at Nico. The other man lifted his drink. "Don't look at me. I'm done."

Santino reached over and took the drink from him, replacing it with a club soda. "This is not the end of the world, Nico. And AJ, she's forward, but she's mostly just teasing."

"I can speak for myself, Dani," Balzarini said, and AJ was fairly certain that was her foot under the table. She sipped calmly from her wine before taking a bite of her food.

"Besides, I think the situation at the other end of the table is going to bother you more?"

"What, Sims and Roberts? That's been a done deal since the _Sea Hawk," _Chegwidden said dismissively. Then his eyes narrowed as he watched the looks and laughter passing between another couple. "Or are you talking about Rabb and Mackenzie?"

"Oh, there is that," Nico agreed, making a face as he drank from the club soda. AJ followed his gaze to Francesca. She was laughing, talking up a storm with Clayton Webb, of all people. "It might not last."

"Her flirtations usually don't," AJ said, shaking his head. He did not want this to be one that did last. He could hardly stand Webb most of the time. "Did you set the date yet, then, Lieutenant?"

"Go to hell. I'm starting to wish I'd let Osborne kill me. Between Juliette and Marcie, I'm in hell already."

"It's not all bad," Santino reminded him, practically crawling into his lap as she kissed him, and Nico responded, quickly turning the tables on her, leaving her back in her own seat and breathless.

"Okay, if you can do that, I _will _marry you," Balzarini muttered, licking her lips. "Can you? Please? Even if you don't ever see me again, I want that. Just once."

_Oh, the hell with it_, AJ thought, leaning over to her and sampling what she'd offered. The wine was better than he remembered from his last visit, though that probably had something to do with her and not the wine itself.

He sat back, and she fanned herself, sitting back in her chair with a slightly dazed look. "Check, please."

Santino laughed, putting her head on Nico's shoulder, and the rest of the table was silent. Except for one person.

"That was awesome. Go Uncle AJ. Come on, Frankie, give your dad over there some props, right? Was that not cool?"

"Very romantic, Papa," Francesca agreed with a smile. At least the ones under his command had nothing to say—that was for the best.

Once the excitement had died down and everyone was back at their meals, Nico looked at him. "Well? I did let you kill him since I got Osborne, so..."

AJ nodded. "I know what the deal was, Lieutenant."

"So help me, if you let him live, for whatever noble reason there might have been, I am going to find him and deal with him myself."

"Officially, he was a casualty of a rigged gas main explosion," AJ quickly assured his friend. It was really over. They were not going to have another incident of this mess coming back to haunt them. Though he really would have rather gotten Osborne than the puppet master, the death of Senator Rutt from the appropriations committee was going to have to be enough.

Nico nodded in acceptance. "We're sure about that, then? I know the name was on the list, but there were several names."

"He had the most to gain, and he was still alive when someone had already said he was dead. That makes it official for me."

"Good," Nico agreed. He took a deep breath. "It won't do anything for the families, but it gives me a small measure of satisfaction, I suppose."

"Sometimes it's all we can ask for," AJ said, reaching for the drink Santino had confiscated and downing it in one shot. "Should have gone to a bar. Like the one by that beach."

"Where we all were so drunk we couldn't walk back to the barracks and slept on the beach?" Nico asked, grimacing. "There was sand in places you wouldn't have thought it could get to for _weeks _after that."

"It was a good time."

"It was a _damn _good time." Nico touched his glass to AJ's, and they exchanged a smile.


End file.
